


O Fortuna

by UltraVioletSoul



Series: Porn With Feelings...? [4]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Blackmail, Character Death, Drama, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kidnapping, Misogyny, Power Imbalance, Slight Credo/Reader, Squick, Suicidal Thoughts, Vergil uses an alias
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-01-26 12:59:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 54,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12557908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraVioletSoul/pseuds/UltraVioletSoul
Summary: When Fortuna is invaded by the enemy empire, you hope to flee before being caught. However, things don't go as expected and soon you're trapped in the claws of Emperor Mundus’s most infamous warlord.Smut with a thing that resembles plot, I guess?[[ Knight!Vergil x Princess!Reader AU ]]Gift for angeljasiel.Check out her spectacular cover art at https://angeljasiel.deviantart.com/art/O-Fortuna-Cover-714450138





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angeljasiel](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=angeljasiel).



> My friend Jasiel suggested an AU of a knight!Vergil and princess!Reader because there aren't many Vergil x Reader AUs out there. So I wrote this for her because she's a precious cinnamon roll and a great friend, even though I'm trash sometimes. Like seriously, I don't know what I did to deserve her friendship, but I feel fortunate ;A;
> 
> I'm so sorry I couldn't get this done any sooner orz but here it is, at long last! I'll try to finish that Gemini Saga/Reader fic I promised you, too! And the Aquarius Camus/Reader after that. Hopefully I can get my lazy butt in gear because I've been slacking off too much *creys*. But, seriously, forgive me for taking so long... and delivering an incomplete work! ;A;
> 
> So... Vergil is a weird interpretation of Nelo/Nero Angelo in this one (he's not ten feet tall like in the game, don't worry) and he may be OoC, or not— depending on whether readers like the premise. Since it's an AU, it doesn't follow the canon (i.e.: Vergil isn't a half-demon and Mundus isn't the emperor of hell) but some aspects from the canon universe may be familiar. This is going to seem weird at some points but, for the purposes of this story, I believe it works.
> 
> The title is taken from "O Fortuna", a medieval poem of the Carmina Burana.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. English is not my native language. Future sexual content. Possible OoC. Coarse language. Dubious consent. Power imbalance. Not much of a fairy tale. Probably no romance. No real historical value in this fic. It could be considered more of a historical fantasy, so to speak. I just wrote it for the smut.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Devil May Cry or its characters. They all belong to Capcom.

**Prologue**

_"The wheel of Fortune turns;_  
_I go down, demeaned;_  
_another is raised up;_  
_far too high up" [1]_

* * *

Fortuna had mostly been a place of peace and prosperity, throughout the years.

_Mostly._

The truth was, this period of pacification was relatively recent— in the face of certain tragic events that had transpired almost two decades ago. Buried between half-truths, and made up stories that people liked to concoct to make the tale more compelling, nothing was certain about their veracity. However, most seemed to agree that it all began when the former King of Fortuna died in dubious circumstances. There was a lot of speculation regarding his demise; from a strange illness that had no cure, to assassination. Perhaps the latter wouldn’t be too far-fetched to consider given that, not long after the King’s passing, one of his generals seized the throne for himself.

To accomplish this, he married the Queen to further cement his position— in hopes that this would, somehow, legitimize his claims and prevent any uprisings against him. Rumor had it that this union was forced, not something she consented neither desired. The Queen had always been faithful to her beloved husband, and she was still mourning his death. However, for the sake of her sons, who back then were only little children, she had no choice but to comply with the commander's demands.

But their marriage didn’t last very long. It was said that the Queen didn’t trust her new husband and was suspicious of his role in the death of the previous monarch. As a mother, in her heart she feared what would happen to her children if she failed to act in time. While she’d been promised that her eldest son would ascend to the throne, when he was old enough to handle his responsibilities, she wasn’t too confident that the new king would keep his word.

Between the devil and the blue sea, she was left with no other choice but to do whatever it was necessary to protect them and ensure their lineage wouldn’t go extinct. In secret, she sent her children away— to different destinations—, so they would be safe whilst she engaged in a battle to regain the throne from the hands of the usurper.

What followed, after her rebellion, was a brutal civil war.

Despite her bravery and determination to honor the memory of her husband, and protect her family, she wasn’t meant to win this conflict. Betrayed by her generals, who sided with the enemy, she met her end. Accused of treason, she and her loyalists were executed to end the insurrection. What she feared that would come to pass became a reality, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The new king went against her sons, now that he had a reason to, with the intent to erase their entire dynasty and establish himself as the sole ruler of those lands.

One of the brothers had the misfortune of being captured and murdered, before he had any chance to escape. His young age didn’t suppose any leniency, despite his difficulty to understand why he was being blamed for conspiracy— or why he was even a traitor, at all. Denied of the honor of a proper burial, his and his mother’s remains served as food for the beasts and their flesh rotted until bones were all that was left. As for the other son, he was aboard a ship when his fleet was attacked, burned and sunk into the depths of the sea. While his corpse was never found, no one really believed the child could have survived the rage of the unforgiving waters.  
  
Or that his ghost would return.

* * *

  **Chapter I**

All this had transpired during a time when you were barely a child, too young to understand and appreciate how blessed you’d been to have a happy infancy. As the princess of a nearby country, your life had been more peaceful and easier than that of most. Having been raised with comforts and luxury, since your were a little girl in the arms of your mother, you'd never known what it was like to go hungry or cold… or fearing for your life.

Brought to Fortuna not long ago, it was the intent of your family to wed you to prince Credo— nephew and heir of the king, who had no children of his own. Despite the history of blood surrounding his uncle's rise to power, from a simple commoner to sovereign, Credo seemed like a good man who wanted the best for his people. He had a good reputation, as someone who was honorable and fair, and was well regarded among the denizens.

Things hadn’t changed that much, in regards to the administration of the lands and riches— and there were even some significant improvements in the economy that rallied approval and support. For all the things the king had done against the former royal family, he was considered to be… benevolent, for the most part. So it was only natural that people conformed and forgot there even existed another monarch that had been overthrown. Even your family, who at some point had sworn loyalty to his house, forsook their vows.

Originally, your parents had planned your engagement to the eldest son and prince heir. When the civil war broke out, and your prospective fiance and his brother were murdered, it presented a serious setback in their plans but didn't change anything for them. And while it was true that you felt sorry for those kids that had to die very young but, whether it was one of them or Credo, it didn't make a difference. You were an asset that your family could use to ensure an alliance, and you would marry the man who was next in line to be king regardless of who he was.

You had to admit that you weren't disappointed in their choice. Out of all the possible suitors, undoubtedly, Credo had to be the best one of them and you were pleased enough. He had always been such a gentleman with you, albeit distant in his manners and never one to be affectionate. You couldn't blame him for that, however; this wasn't a marriage of love but one of convenience, and you were still getting to know each other. No one ever took your feelings into consideration, either, as they weren't of importance. Of course, Credo was in the same situation, since no one asked him if he wanted to marry you. That had been his uncle and your father's idea, so he had to do as he was told.

To be honest, you wouldn't have gone that far so as to say you loved him, but at least there was some semblance of mutual understanding and respect between you and him. Even if it wasn't part of the grand plan, you hoped that one day you would lose your heart to him.

There would be plenty of time to explore the relationship after you got married and ruled Fortuna by his side. You weren't certain what to expect from this, but you were interested in seeing what the future had in store for both of you once you were husband and wife. At least he had confided in you that it was his wish to form a family to love and cherish, since he’d been orphaned at a young age with his sister. Their parents had died when they were just children, and they’d been under the care of their uncle ever since then.

There was a concrete possible that, in the past, Credo could have been friends with the former princes but he never talked about it. Everything seemed to indicate that the king wanted to get rid of any traces of the royal family he'd served for many years, as though it had never existed. Still, regardless of his uncle's deeds, Credo should not have had to feel guilty about what happened when he was only a child, with no real power to decide. It was hard to say what his relationship with the princes had been like, but maybe it didn't matter at any rate.

However, there was no way to deny that the tragedy of some people was the fortune of others. Indeed, Fortuna appeared to be a fitting name for the island if one considered that it made for an interesting analogy. The personification of luck and fate, she was ever changing, capricious and unwittingly cruel in her blindness. At the turn of her wheel, those who were in power one day were in ruins the next and someone else took their place— only for history to repeat itself.

It shouldn’t have been something that concerned you that much, but it was impossible to ignore that fate was a cruel mistress to all. No one could escape from her, whether noble or lowborn, and you feared that one day you might not either.

You didn’t want those thoughts to get in the way of your happiness. Your wedding would be celebrated soon, so there was no lack of reasons for rejoice. As your father had said, this alliance would greatly benefit both kingdoms and you’d get to be queen of one of the richest regions in the Mediterranean. From that point of view, the prospect didn't suppose a terrible sacrifice and you couldn’t complain about the opportunity that was being offered to you.

Of course you needed to do your best to ensure everything went according to plan. But there were factors that escaped to your control, so knowing that something could go wrong left you somewhat restless. Nonetheless, you needed to remind yourself that this mindset would not do any good. Worrying so much would accomplish nothing other than make you sick.

It would be better if you took the time to relax and get accustomed to your new home. After all, this was the first time you visited Fortuna and you had to admit that you were quite taken with it.

Some handmaidens had suggested to visit this beautiful cliff, overlooking the blue sea, so it'd be a great opportunity for you to get your mind off such unproductive thoughts. It was a place that Credo’s younger sister, Kyrie, used to visit before she departed to marry her fiance— much like you'd done. From the affectionate comments you'd heard from her former attendants, and the devotion they still felt for her, the princess sounded like a very kind and sweet woman who was the light in Credo’s life. He'd been sorry to see her only sister leave for faraway lands and, needless to say, Kyrie had been saddened at the news too. There was little they could do to prevent it, for it was the king's decision and she had to obey. Hopefully, at the very least, she was happy with her new life.

As you and your attendants had a merry conversation about your wedding, which would be celebrated soon, you made a wreath of flowers to pass the time. Sitting under the shade of a tree, you enjoyed the cool breeze of the sea on such a warm day. It would be good to savor life as a single woman, before facing the responsibilities of a marriage that your family had arranged.

Meanwhile, you took this chance to inspect some lovely fabrics that had been brought from the East. They were a gift for you, of course, and you wanted to choose the ones you liked the most.

“Oh,  _this_ one…” A bundle of white silk organza had caught your attention, and you held it in front of you with a smile on your lips. The textile was lovely, soft to the touch, and appeared to be ideal for the warm weather. “What will I do with it…?” you mused for a while, until an idea came to your mind. “Ah, yes, I know…” There appeared a hint of innocent contentment in your gaze. “It will be for my wedding night.”

You wanted to look your best, as it would be an important transition in your life— from maiden to woman— and mark the consummation of your marriage. Your mother had given you some basic knowledge on what to expect during that first night, but she'd said that your husband would be the one to educate you when it happened.

After that, children should arrive soon— preferably a little boy. It was the duty of the queen to provide heirs to the throne.

“So many ships…” one of your handmaidens commented, bringing you out of your reverie. Diverting your gaze from the fabric in your hands, you gazed into the horizon and frowned at the sight of several naval vessels approaching.

“You're right…” another mumbled with confusion, only adding to your own.

It shouldn't really have been a matter of concern. After all, maritime trade was a big part of the  economy of Fortuna and convoys of merchant ships were usually protected against pirates. However, this didn't seem to be an ordinary convoy as the number of vessels increased the more they approached the island.

Even before the tower bell sounded the alarm, confirming your fears, you knew that their sudden appearance spelled disaster.

“An enemy fleet…” You stood up wide-eyed, as your body quivered with dread at the thought of an armed conflict. However, despite your denial, nothing could change the truth. “This is an invasion!”

“We must go back to the castle, Your Highness. Hurry!”

Rushing towards the safety behind the walls, you couldn't help but feel somewhat overwhelmed by the hysteria that had taken over people, as they ran for their lives. Soldiers made haste to the armories to get ready for battle and, at the stables, men prepared the horses for their riders. Defenses on the beach had to be lay quickly and there was little time to spare. It wouldn't be long before the enemy docked on the shores, and it didn't help that those cursed winds favored them.

All around you, there was chaos and panic but you did your best to keep calm, even when you didn't fully understand what was going on or who was attacking you. In the meantime, it was better to remove yourself from danger and not be a burden to others.

“(Y/N)!” a voice called your name among the screams and confusion, and you struggled to pinpoint its owner— though you immediately recognized him.

“It's Prince Credo!” a handmaiden pointed her finger behind you. Swiftly, you turned around and looked for him in the crowd. It didn't take you long to find him, as he was on his horse with several riders gathered at the back.

Credo was donning his armor, something that made you realize the gravity of the situation. If the prince had to leave the citadel and lead his men into battle, it meant that the enemy wasn't to be taken lightly. No doubt Credo and his riders would try to repel the invading forces beyond the walls, and you were quite worried about the outcome.

“Your Highness!” You pushed your way forward, caring very little for decorum and grace, until you reached him. “What's going on? Who is trying to invade?”

With the demeanor of a man that always kept his wits about himself, he attempted to calm you down. “Listen to me. There is no time for explanations now. What I need you to do now is proceed to the castle and stay there until I return. I will have peace of mind knowing that you are safe.”

“Do you intend to fight with these men?”

This was his people… of course he had an obligation fulfill, but he was also the crown prince! If something happened to him, then who would be next in line to the throne? Even if you didn’t know him that well, you still cared about what could happen to him regardless if it was for selfish reasons.

While you didn’t want him to die out there, part of you understood that he couldn’t sit around and wait on the sidelines— hoping that his foes would leave.

You needed to have faith that he would return alive.

“It is my duty to protect Fortuna and her people,” he said, furrowing his brows as he took in the distressed expression on your face. “Now go to the castle and wait for me. I'll be back, trust me on this.”

Despite the sternness in his voice, you knew Credo was right. If he said he would return, then you had to believe him and hope for the best.

Holding his armored hand in yours, you nodded in silence. As he rode towards the gates, you prayed to the Almighty that he would protect Credo.

* * *

“Ma'am, please, you need to eat something.”

“I already told you that I have no appetite,” you replied, sitting by the window as you watched the sky darken at dusk. There was a heavy weight on your chest that made it difficult to breathe, and you couldn’t think of anything else but the fight raging outside the walls. All those men that had left with Credo… you hoped they would be safe, but the undeniable truth of warfare was cruel. “How can I eat or rest when we have the enemy at our gates? Sitting around and pretending nothing is wrong is certainly not possible.”

“They should be returning soon. It's no use fighting in the dark and our defenses at the wall should suffice. Do not fret; I'm sure His Highness is well. This is not the first time he's seen battle, and he is a very capable commander. You've heard of his victories in foreign lands yourself. That is why His Majesty trusts him to deal with this predicament.”

Her words offered relief, and they made you smile if only a little. “You're right, Amelia… we should be fine.”

Even though you’d never experienced this kind of fear before, there was still hope for victory. Or that was what you wanted to believe, at least. However, this uncertainty was driving you insane. You didn’t even know who was attacking and, though you were dying for answers, it was unlikely someone would give you a proper explanation. Most likely, there was a council reunited at the moment and your presence would be considered an unwelcome disturbance— funny, considering that you’d be ruling alongside Credo, once the king passed away. Not that you were eager to linger under the scrutinizing gazes of those old men, either way, and there was little contribution you could make since they would not listen to the words of someone as inexperienced as you. Better leave wars and try not to mingle in the affairs of men, your mother used to say. Or make them believe they were in control, at least.

“However, you must have heard rumors and news during your trip to the kitchens. What did you find?”

“Your Highness,” she began, rather timorous, and it was all you needed to notice that she was trying to hold back information from you. “I don't think it would be advisable to—”

“You are supposed to be my eyes and ears in this castle. Yet now you've suddenly taken the liberty to decide what is convenient for me, as though you were a parent of mine or my husband. Have you forgotten your place?” With a glare, you made her cast her glance downwards to her feet. Normally, you wouldn’t use such a harsh tone with your attendants, but her intent to keep information from you wasn’t something you could tolerate. And it didn’t bode anything good. “Now tell me what did you hear, before I decide to cast you away and find someone more useful for the task. I'm sure you would not want that to happen, would you?”

“No, my lady!” The idea that she would lose your favor didn’t sit well with her, and she was trying to mend her mistake. “I never meant to offend you. I only thought that, maybe, it would be best that you weren't so preoccupied by these hurdles. Forgive me.”

You weren’t so heartless so as to ignore that her intentions were fair, as irked as you might have felt by her statements.

Softening your voice, and your expression, you tried to appease her spirits. “I appreciate your concern but, if I am fated to be queen of Fortuna, I can't be cowering in the safety of these walls— unaware of what's happening in this kingdom. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Very well. Please, tell me what you know.”

With a deep breath, she began her account. “From what I've heard, I am afraid that the Empire of Mallet is trying to conquer these lands. I'm not certain where this information comes from, but there have been reports of a fleet sailing away to the West several weeks ago. However, they seemed to indicate that the target of invasion would be another kingdom, one of our allies, and not Fortuna.”

That was true. Credo had been several years away waging war against the enemy empire, supporting your allies. It wasn’t until recently that he had returned to Fortuna, albeit for a brief period of time, to wed you. His uncle wanted him to produce an heir as soon as possible, should something happen to the young man while he was away. Therefore, it was your job to give him a son that would secure the continuation of his lineage. And you would do it gladly, if it were possible for you to have a say in the baby’s gender.

At the moment, the future of the crown was uncertain but Credo couldn’t remain with arms closed. The Empire of Mallet wasn’t a simple threat that one could simply ignore. While not a very mighty force in the past, their military power had developed so much in the last years that they had launched a conquest of important territories. You’d heard tidings of their victories, which had been an ever growing threat not just for this kingdom but for many others. The Emperor was certainly a megalomaniac who likened himself to a god, wishing to be worshiped as one, and his intention to rule all lands and peoples was a matter of great concern for everyone.

To be honest, the situation wasn’t looking too good. And now that you knew what you were dealing with… you feared what would happen even more.

“That's not the end of it, however,” the woman mumbled, and you arched an eyebrow— trying to keep your composure, in spite of these news.

“What do you mean by that?”

After a brief and awkward silence, she finally spoke. “There is a rumor that the Black Angel is here…”

The mention of that name was enough to send chills running down your back.

“The Black Angel, you said…?” You almost sprang from your seat, but your body had been so stiff that it was impossible to move.

“Indeed.”

Gazing at the night sky, with a distant look in your eyes, you prayed in silence again and feared for Credo’s life.

The Black Angel, they called him... and for good reason. As one of the emperor's warlords, he was his most loyal and ruthless commander in the battlefield. That epithet would be enough to shake people's hearts and send some kind of irrational fear coursing through them. He was a destroyer of nations, a warrior that had come from an obscure background and became a favorite of the emperor for his unparalleled fighting skills.

His reputation as a cold-blooded killer was well known, and his story was surrounded by mystery. Some rumored he'd once been royalty of a far away kingdom, but his house had fallen into ruin. Others, more superstitious, assured that he was some sort of supernatural being— a reincarnation of the devil, so to speak. That was probably because he always wore a monstrous helmet with horns and was said to fight like one.

Still, you weren't certain if someone had seen his face for a long time, or whether he would have a good reason to conceal his identity. He must have looked horrible if he wished to hide his appearance… but, most certainly, it only added to the mystic vision the enemy had of him and served to intimidate during battle.

However, what was more terrifying, it was said that whenever he appeared the battles turned to his tide. If the stories were true— if he truly was a destroyer of nations— then what would become of this kingdom? Of her people?

Of Credo?

Those had to be fabrications of the enemy, stories that were spread around for the sole purpose of demoralization and the instillation of fear. His prestige must have been deserving of praise and respect, true, but he wasn't a god people should fear. He had to be a man made of flesh and bones like everyone.

“He is here?” you furrowed your brows in deep thought, letting her words sink in your mind.  _But why?_

There was no doubt that Fortuna was a strategic location for maritime trade and resupply, and its riches in gold, silver, iron— apart from fertile soils— made it a valuable territory. However, it didn’t merit the presence of one of the emperor’s favorite commanders, when the battle was raging in other fronts. And what was more concerning was that the majority of Fortuna’s troops were overseas, having left to support other allies. What you didn’t expect was for the empire to make this move on Fortuna, and it brought a deadly realization upon you.

“I'm afraid we have been victims of deception. They went out of their way to make us believe they would not invade…” you mused, staring down at the floor in defeat. “We were fooled into shipping our forces to the battlefront, and now we don't have enough men to fight. What are we going to do?”

It was then that the doors of your bedroom flung open, startling you and your maid at the forced entrance. Standing swiftly, you couldn’t help but wonder what had come to pass and were fearing the worst already. The pressure on your chest was becoming too much to bear, and knowing that your chances to survive this onslaught had diminished… it was all the more distressing.

“(Y/N)...”

Fortunately, and to your relief, it was Credo himself who had come to your encounter.

Walking up to him with haste, you threw your arms around him. “Oh, thank the Almighty you're safe!” With some hesitance, he returned your hug and you placed your hands on his sturdy shoulders, parting from him to study his wearied and dirtied face. “Please, you have to tell me what's going on. Free me from the torture of uncertainty. Is it true that the Empire of Mallet has invaded?”

“It is…” he finally said, his gaze lost in musings he seemed not keen in sharing with you. Not yet, at least.

“Is there any hope for success on our part?” You were afraid to hear his answer, but it was an unavoidable truth that you needed to know.

Although part of you longed to see the glee of victory on his face, to tell him that there was nothing to fret about, the troubled look in his eyes didn't bode anything good. He wasn't despairing— Credo didn't let his emotions show that easily, even with the woman who was to become his wife— but there was no denying of the shadow of doubt darkening his features. He usually was a man of endurance who knew how to temper his mood, even if a situation was seemingly beyond his control, but this was a time of crisis which nobody had foreseen.

“What happened?” You held his cheeks, shuddering at the harsh look in his green eyes. It made you wonder if you'd said something to aggravate him, until you realized that it wasn't you who his anger was directed at.

He was angry at himself.

An aggravated glare from him was all the maid needed to understand she had to take her leave. Hurrying out of the bedroom, she left you alone with him. For a moment, no words were spoken and there was only a pregnant silence that was beginning to get on your nerves, the more it lingered. However, you feared to say anything so you waited patiently as you observed him pace around the room, brushing an unsuspecting hand against his brown hair.

Alas, you couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Tell me what's going on, please. You are scaring me…”

As if he had finally remembered that you were in the same room, Credo stopped and gazed at you with dejection. Then sighed and turned away, as though he didn’t wish you to see him in such a miserable state.

“What happened?” you questioned, again, hoping that he would give you an answer this time.

“The onslaught was aggressive and unrelenting. We lost the battle and many of our men perished," he began, at long last. "The enemy arrived and seized control of the beach, in a matter of hours. Now they've made camp and are regrouping their forces for another attack. This is truly an invasion of our lands, and I'm afraid to tell you that we don't have the upper hand. We were fooled with misinformation, a grave mistake on our part. I warned my uncle and his advisers about this, but they did not listen and now…”

Muffling a gasp of shock, you felt your blood run cold at the news that he had delivered. The situation seemed to be even worse than you’d imagined but, despite it all, you knew you needed to keep your wits about you. Credo needed someone he could rely on. Otherwise, what kind of queen did you expect to be?

“Fooled we may have been, but there has to be something we can do about this. The citadel cannot fall!”

Credo nodded, a thoughtful expression settling on his features. “And it will not, if we can help it. There's still some hope for us. Our walls are sturdy and have repelled many invasions in the past. However, I am not sure how long we'll be able to endure without any help. Our numbers have dwindled and, unless we call for reinforcements, we don't a stand a chance.”

“So what's the course of action we should take?”

“We need to send word to our allies and our forces overseas. Without delay.”

That was a desperate plan, and there was no guarantee that it would work. How would you be able to do that when you were practically cornered, without a chance to escape?

“Credo… even if our message reached them, it would take too long before they mobilized and returned!”

With a sigh of defeat, he fell on the armchair by the window and again stayed silent, lost in his own thoughts.

At long last, he spoke in a soft yet disheartened voice that made you regret having said such things. “I know… but that's the only option we have and it is better than sitting idly, waiting for the end to come.”

He was right. If there was a tiny sliver of hope, then you had to hold onto it. For better or for worse.

“Is there any way we can achieve that?”

“Certainly,” was his simple reply, to which you could only agree. “I have given orders to make preparations at once.”

“Then we must hurry and pray… pray that help arrives on time. Meanwhile, you should try to have some rest. It has been a long day, and you need to recover your strength.” Approaching from behind, you gently placed your hands on his shoulders and tried to comfort him. “Tomorrow will be another day.”

“I cannot sleep in this state.”

“Well, the way I see it, there's nothing else you can do at the moment. You have already done everything you could to buy us some time.”

Placing a hand on yours, he heaved a strenuous sigh and slightly turned to face you. “There is something else I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“You're boarding a ship tonight.”

You gave him a puzzled look, stunned at the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm saying that I want you to leave this island, while you still can.”

He couldn't be serious…

“Credo, are you listening to your own words? You want me to leave. Where else would I be safer if not here, with you?”

Standing up, he faced you with a stern look in his eyes and held you by the shoulders. “There is another place, yes, and that is away from Fortuna.”

“Do not send me away…” you pleaded. “Why are you doing this?”

“If this plan does not work, if we are to fall, there will be nothing I can do to protect you. It is for your own good. Even if I'm to to perish, I want you to live.”

“No, do not say such terrible things. Please, do not even think about it.”

The thought was difficult to stomach, knowing that he was willing to let you go and give you an opportunity to save yourself. How could you accept this? How would you be able to depart with the knowledge that your fiancé would die?

“Even if I try to ignore it, the possibility is real. I cannot lie to you and promise that we'll have victory.”

“There must be another way—”

“It is my final decision. You will leave in secret, tonight. We have no time to waste, so do not argue with me.”

“But how will I leave, if they have control of the beach?”

“We received word that they've only attacked the northern side of the island— the one closest to our fortress. However, if we can get you out of here soon, before we're surrounded, and through the secret passage of Lamina Peak, you will reach Port Caerula.”

Shaking your head, you tried to change his mind— to no avail. “I do not want to leave. I have to stay here!”

Credo’s expression softened and that was, perhaps, the first time he showed genuine affection for you. The back of his hand gently brushed against your cheek, as though he was trying to ease the painful grip of fear on your heart.

“I wish you could be by my side, but I would never forgive myself if something bad happened to you. The closest and safest destination is with my sister Kyrie. She and her husband will receive you with open arms and give you protection. Tell them we need their help. It is our only chance.” Before you could protest again, he hushed you. “I am leaving this task in your hands, the woman who will be my wife. Can you do that, for me?”

How could you deny his request? It was impossible when you considered what was at stake. Moreover, you cared for him and if this was the mission he entrusted you to accomplish, then you would.

“Yes, I will.”

* * *

True to your word, you prepared to leave in spite of your concerns.

Accompanied by some handmaidens and a small strength of soldiers, you set out and wished that Credo would be safe. Hopefully this wouldn't be the last time you saw him, but everything was so uncertain that you preferred not to think about it. It was better not to, at any rate.

Everything was supposed to go according to the plan. You would travel across the passages of Lamina Peak and reach Port Caerula, where you'd board the ship that would take you away from Fortuna. While Credo made it seem as though he’d entrusted you a mission of utmost importance, you knew that he only wanted to protect you. Otherwise he wouldn't have sent you away.

However, you never boarded that ship. You would have, had the enemy not made it first— by some cruel twist of fate— and destroyed the only chance to send news about the invasion to your allies.

This had been a risky move, you knew it from the beginning, but you'd never thought that it all would be over before even starting. All you could do was watch in silent horror at the bodies lying all around you, after the slaughter that had taken place. These men had tried to preserve you from harm, given their lives to do so, and now they were going to feed the crows without the honor of a proper burial.

Never before had you been so close to death before, and neither did you imagine you would be caught in the midst of this bloodbath. You’d feared something like this would happen, but you had trusted Credo’s word that you'd be safe. But everything had gone awry and now you were at the mercy of these brutes.

“Which one of you is the princess?” they had asked, but you remained silent and so did the women that had accompanied you.

All of you were dressed in similar garbs, not too ornate or impractical for the journey. It was best if you kept that information to yourself for the time being, until you were certain whether it would be advisable to reveal your identity. You thought that doing so would give you an advantage over them, and the women would be safer with with the uncertainty of the enemy. It scared you to think what the men would do to them— or, maybe, you were actually terrified of what they’d do to you.

“We are as good as dead,” one of the girls, named Clara, sobbed as you were transported on a cart— hands tied down and closely guarded, in case any of you attempted to escape.

“Shh,” Amelia, tried to hush her cries. “Stop crying or we'll be dead for sure. I do not think these men are to be trifled with, and I would not like to provoke them.” On cue, the youngest one quieted down and only sniffed feebly, knowing that her friend was right. After a moment, Amelia’s saddened gaze settled on you and it conveyed a desolation that you couldn't bear to contemplate. “Do you think they will send someone to our rescue?”

With your eyes on the night sky, you looked for an answer in your aching heart but you had none that could comfort her restless spirits.

Would that be possible? Did Credo even know you had been captured? That was very unlikely. And what were the chances of being saved? It was a suicide mission. Your only best option was that he tried to negotiate your exchange, but what did he have to bargain? The city? The lives of his people? You weren't so foolish to believe that he would put the safety of this kingdom above you, and he would be right to do so.

“All we can do now is pray and wait…”

Pray that the end wouldn't be too horrible.

* * *

They had taken you back to their camp and, by the time you arrived, the sun was peeking in the horizon. A red sun that reminded you of the blood that had been spilled and left you with an ominous sensation.

You didn't have any sleep throughout the night. Even as exhausted as you were, you wouldn’t have been able to sleep. The shock of the gruesome images that had been etched into your mind lingered, and you couldn't forget them but this wasn’t the time to despair. No matter how much you wanted to mourn, if you fell prey to your own fear then there was no hope of leaving this place.

Of course you wanted to trust Credo, but at the moment you could only count on yourself to deal with this mess.

“They refuse to tell us who is the princess.”

“Well, they won't be able to fool our master for too long. He will find out one way or the other. They either tell us or we will make them talk.”

“We should have brought back one of those rats for interrogation.”

“Should have, yes, but that's not the case anymore. Anyways, keep an eye on these little ladies. And try not to get all touchy-feely with them. At least until we figure out who is the so-called princess, hehe.”

 _Damned pig_ , you thought with disgust. If the danger of murder wasn't a pressing concern, the other women also had to face the possibility of sexual assault. What a cruel world you lived in…

They took you to a tent that, luckily, was close to the borders of the camp and near the Mitis Forest. What were they thinking? They probably thought you were such an insignificant threat that you would be unable to do anything to escape. And that might have been true. The size of that army wasn’t to be ignored, and you shuddered at the thought of it breaching into the fortress. It would be preferable to die than be taken as spoils of war.

“Stay here and don’t cause any trouble,” said your captor, as he pushed you inside. Your prospects weren't looking too bright, but you still were trying to come up with something until you were faced with another obstacle. “Well, just to make sure you will not escape, I will bind your feet too.”

If it wasn’t enough that your hands were tied, now you were deprived of any chance to mobilize properly. Of course they wouldn’t make it easy, but you would have to deal with this unexpected impediment before even thinking of leaving. It didn’t help that the rope was a little too tight and, if you kept wiggling trying to loosen them, you would only hurt yourself.

“This ill treatment towards a lady is inconceivable. You dare keep us here like animals?” The situation was most unsettling, and it was hard to believe that you had gotten in this mess. But it would be futile to try and deny the disturbing circumstances, no matter how surreal they felt.

“Now, now, I'm only doing my job here. If it were up to me, I would have you sitting on my lap holding a handful of your tits as I drink some wine.”

“You are disgusting…” The words came from your lips with a venomous spat that you didn’t try to hide. “Though I'm not surprised to see that the soldiers of Mallet are part of the social waste. You must feel at home with them.”

The man didn’t look the least bit offended. On the contrary, for some reason your statements amused him.

“Don't worry, little one. There are far more wicked uses others will find for you and your friends. After our lord decides which one of you is more useful to him, I’m sure he will not care about what we do with the others.”

The way they kept talking about their master reminded you of what Amelia had told you, the rumors of the emperor’s favorite warlord leading the invading forces. As for the insinuation that you would be useful to this unknown man, it wouldn’t be hard to deduce that he intended to wield you as some kind of leverage. Or that had been your initial assumption. 

Plainly ignoring those depraved comments, you diverted the conversation elsewhere as a sensation of dread clung to your body. “This lord of yours… is he the one they call the Black Angel?”

The brown eyes of the miscreant lit up in recognition of the name, and it was enough to confirm your fears even before he opened his mouth. “That he is. I am sure you have heard enough tales about him, by now. Mercy doesn’t come easily to him, and if you’re not scared for your life then you had better be.”

You might have been scared, but you wouldn’t remain with arms crossed.

* * *

When the soldier was gone, you turned to your companions and whispered with bitterness, “we have to get out of here and soon.”

“Yes, but how?” Clara questioned rather anxiously, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

“There must be a way… but we'll never know if we just sit around.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Amelia mumbled without much optimism, her gaze devoid of hope. “However, we are in no conditions to face an army on our own.”

“Fight them? No. Of course we cannot do that, but I would be content if we could get out of here alive.” Your mother had always told you that a woman had no business in war, but what should she do if she finds herself in a predicament like this?

“Maybe it would be better if we waited here…”

“Wait for what? To be raped and killed?” Even if you wanted to stay put and wait to be saved, there was no way to know for sure whether such a thing was happening. This wasn't to say you didn't believe in Credo. It was his uncle and advisers the ones who you didn't trust. “I'm not doing that…”

“Then how do we leave this place? If we try to escape, they will chase after us and if we are caught… I don't want to think what will happen to us.”

After a moment’s thought, something came to mind. “When they brought us here, I saw horses grazing not far away. If only we could get to them, then maybe we would be able to escape to the forest.”

Clara’s blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and she shook her head. “That is madness! We don't know our way through these woods. We would get lost for sure!”

“Would you prefer staying here?” you hissed, getting frustrated at their refusal to take action. It might not have been the best option, but anything was preferable to being held prisoner. After what that despicable man had said they would do, you had no wish to waste another second in this place.

“N-no, of course not…”

“Then we have to try. That is all we have left.”

“Hey, you, stop talking in hushed tones!” the other soldier, the crabbiest one of the two, reprimanded. Almost immediately, you fell silent and didn't attempt any further conversation— lest you wanted to get in trouble and ruin any chances to escape. However, this gave you some time to think on what you should do next.

It was obvious that the first step to put this harebrained plan in motion was to get rid of these ropes binding your limbs.

And you had to find a way to convince them of that.

* * *

“Excuse me?” you called the guards, hoping to get their attention.

One of them, the one with the less than friendly face— not that his comrade was kinder, by any means— peeked his head inside, looking rather annoyed. “What do you want?”

“I have a... well, an urgent situation. If you know what I mean…” Grimacing a little for good measure, you regarded him with an uncomfortable expression. Of course you wouldn’t feel at ease talking about such things with a complete stranger— and one of your captors no less— but this could be the only opportunity you’d find to elude a dismal fate.

“Whatever it is, I don't care.”

At this, you had to scowl in indignation, finding his attitude most rude. “The hospitality of your people is so deplorable that you would deny a lady even the right to relieve herself, when nature calls? This is unbelievable!”

He stepped inside and, grumbling some profanities under his breath, undid the bonds on your feet. Then looked at you expectantly. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I was about to ask you the same question. Take me outside.”

“There is the urinal for a reason.”

“I will  _not_ use that piece of filthy bucket. I want to go outside!”

“You're a very bossy woman for someone who is in no place to make demands.” The scoundrel glared at you, and it seemed he would lose his patience with you at any time, but you couldn’t just back down.

“Well, I don't think your lord will appreciate it if he finds me in a most undignified manner. If that comes to pass, I will tell him that it was your fault. You either take me outside, or I shall empty the contents of this goddamn urinal on your face!”

Apparently, patience was not one of his virtues and he was quick to enrage.

Having had enough of your difficult behavior, he raised his hand with the intent of striking you but his comrade stopped him in time. “Be careful there. Remember we mustn't touch any of them. If that lass turns out to be the princess, and you leave a mark on her pretty face, our lord will not be pleased. Just let her take a piss or whatever outside, and be done with it.”

With a snarl, he held your arm roughly and shook your body. “You got lucky, but do not test my patience.”

Biting the tip of your tongue, you swallowed your pride and didn’t say anything else. After all, you would be getting what you wanted.

Your tent was near the forest— obviously, a good source of wood for the encampment. How convenient for you, one would think. This plan was depending on luck in its entirety, and you knew it wasn't foolproof. But for something that you had cooked in a short time, perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“There.” With a finger, you pointed at the growth of trees and grass. He only gaze at you with irritation but, before an argument could take place, you quickly countered,“it will be a short walk for you and I. You don't want to drag me around camp, do you?”

Well, he still dragged you nonetheless, and you were none too happy with his manhandling— though you were willing to endure a little longer, if that was what it took. However, there was one last hindrance which you needed to get rid of before anything else.

“Would you cut my ropes, please? I cannot gather my skirts." You tried to sound nice, in spite of your aversion for this individual. In return, he gave you a suspicious look— wary of your intentions, no doubt— and his gesture had you rolling your eyes. “You are not going to tell me you're scared of a woman, are you? What could I possibly do in this situation, when it's evident I am at disadvantage?”

That one couldn’t fail. Men tended to assume that women were vulnerable and weak, or too stupid. Well, maybe this plan was a very stupid idea but it was all you had and you wouldn’t give it up.

The soldier grumbled under his breath, but in the end acquiesced to your petition and you were free of the bounds around your wrists. “Do whatever you have to do and fast.”

You stared at him for a moment and frowned when he didn’t move from his spot or had the decency to avert his gaze, at least. “I want some privacy.”

“Of course you do.” He crossed his arms, unimpressed, and this only served to fuel your frustration. Again, you had to remind yourself to be careful with your words or else you’d be risking more than you were willing to bargain.

“Could you turn around, at the very least? I cannot do it while you are watching me.”

Seemingly tired by your endless babble, the soldier sighed with weariness and then turned his back on you— though still remained in place, not having any intentions of leaving. Of course you’d expected that, and that was why you had to think fast and find the way to escape his surveillance undetected.

Improvising had never your forte, but you’d have to learn fast if you hoped to succeed.

“Hurry up.”

“Do not peek!”

“Do it before I lose my patience!”

“Ugh, fine!”

Gathering your skirts in your sweaty and trembling hands, you looked for something…  _anything_  that could be used as a potential weapon. You’d never thought there would come the day where you would have the need to do such a thing, yet here you were… wondering whether this would work and panicking at the thought of failure.

If you didn’t do it right this time, you would regret it.

“Are you done?”

“Do not push me! I cannot find a good spot in here.”

At long last, you found what you were looking for— a log from a fallen tree that looked sturdy enough for your purposes. Not exactly the most ideal protection, but it would have to do. It all depended on your luck and your strength, as well as the moment you chose to strike.

Your gut told you that it was now or never, so you made your move before it was too late. Mustering the courage to deal a blow, you took a deep breath and got ready to attack.

“Goddamn it. Hurry the hell up, stupid wench! I don't have all day!”

He never got a response from you, and neither did you intend to give him one. All you could think of was sneaking up to him, and your feet moved before you could even have any second thoughts.

However, the man sensed your approach and heard your quiet steps on the grass, even when you'd tried to go unnoticed. It meant that you had to move faster, and act when you still had the chance to do it. Time was of the essence and you couldn't waste a single second, much any less feel queasy at the idea of hurting someone else— even if they didn't seem to be the most honorable kind of people, but that wasn't for you to decide.

It was you or him and you preferred being alive.

As he he began to turn around, you lifted the piece of wood in your hands and landed a blow on the back of his head as hard as you could. At first, it appeared that he was unaffected and you feared that you'd failed in your endeavors— at the way he remained still, holding a hand to his nape. Even if you didn't intend to murder him, you really didn't want to deal with a furious guard and endure some terrible punishment for your insubordination.

To your shock, and unexpected horror, he began to wobble in his steps. Tripping on his feet, he threw a look full of wrath your way and tried to seize you but you backed away before he had a chance to do so.

“You harlot, get back here…!” he slurred rather painfully, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. With a groan, he fell to the ground unconscious and you stood there, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

What had you done? Panicking, the log fell from your hands and you grabbed your head, eyes wide in shock and horror.

Was he dead?

Well, he had a concussion but was still breathing. Not that you were too worried about his well-being, but the idea of being a murderer disturbed you deeply.

At least he’d fallen on a place where the tall grass would conceal his body so he wouldn't draw too much attention. Still, you knew that his friend would eventually come looking for him before long so that was why you had to move.

“Forgive me, Almighty, but I have a good reason to raise my hand against another…”

You returned quietly, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. If you were caught now, it was all over. Using the knife you'd retrieved from your captor, you slashed the fabric of the back of the tent and stepped inside.

“My lady!” Amelia gasped, taken aback by your unexpected arrival.

You put a finger on your lips to signal them to be silent, before cutting their ropes. And while you wished to give them explanations, there wasn't time for that. It didn't matter, either way. All you knew was that you had to flee before it was too late.

“We're leaving. Come with me, now.”

Amelia and Clara nodded before following you obediently. It made it all the more distressing to bear this weight on your shoulders, in a way, because their lives were in your hands and you were doing a dangerous bargain with fortune. However, what else could you do? Sit and wait for death to claim you? That was out of the question.

Perhaps you were too naive to believe you would stand a chance, but this was all the hope you had.

* * *

_“The captives are gone!”_

_“What? How is that possible? Weren’t they your responsibility?!”_

Much as you’d feared, it took them sooner than expected to notice that you were missing. It didn’t help matters that the encampment was on alert now. Surely, you’d been close to the outskirts of the encampment but not exactly on the borders, and it didn’t mean that it would be easy to go unnoticed. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken as long as you had, but it wasn’t the moment to regret such things.

Those grazing horses were your only means to escape, and you had to reach them no matter what. You couldn’t give up when you were so close…

_“They cannot be too far from here. Find them at once! He will have our heads if they escape.”_

“We need to be careful now more than ever,” you mumbled, placing a hand on your chest to placate your restless heart which beat erratically inside. Even if you tried to keep a calm demeanor, you were actually overwhelmed by terror.

_“Hurry! How difficult can it be to find three wenches?”_

_Faster!_ You needed to move faster! But no matter what you did, at every turn there seemed to be enemies in your way.

“What should we do?” Clara was entering a state of panic again, and how could you blame her for being scared? If you'd been allowed to, you would have broken down too but that wasn’t something you could afford to do.

“Keep going, that is what we will do,” Amelia spoke with determination, and her newfound confidence helped ease your distress— if only a little. “Do not worry, we'll go home…”

The way she comforted her friend made you realize that you were playing with fire. If things went awry, then it would be your fault to have put them in such a dangerous situation. Whatever you did, it seemed that there was always a drawback and risks to be taken. However, you couldn’t wait for others to come up with a solution in circumstances as dire as these. As someone who was supposed to have the interests of her people at heart, it was your responsibility to look after these women and you had to make sure that they reached their homes safe and sound.

“Alright, let us proceed. I should go first. Just follow my lead.”

“But, my lady—” Amelia protested, but the grave look in your eyes was enough to discourage any further objections.

“It will be a little difficult but not impossible to achieve.”

It was becoming clear that this wasn’t the brightest idea of all. Perhaps the most sensible course of action would have been to escape during the night but, without any idea of how to navigate the forest, what other options did you have? With the imminent danger of the less than favorable fate that would fall upon you, nothing could be worse.

If it was in your power to help these women, then you had an obligation to do so. After all, it had been at your behest that they’d set out on this journey. There were families waiting for them, people that would miss them and it was because of you that they would suffer. But it didn’t have to be this way, if you could help it.

Still, in spite of your best intentions, fortune wasn’t on your side.

“I found them!” a masculine voice screamed, destroying your hopes as soon as you turned to see the soldier pointing at your direction.

 _No!_ It couldn’t be possible. Not now!

“Go on without me, take the horses and leave!” you urged the women, knowing that time was running out. “I will distract them!”

“What are you talking about? You're the priority, my lady. We cannot abandon you!”

“Do not argue with me. Just do as I say! I'll find a way to escape, but you must leave now!”

Using them to ensure your safety wasn’t something you wanted. This was a risk you'd been willing to take, and now you had to assume the consequences of your actions.

Hopefully your death would be swift, but you doubted they would give you that much mercy.

* * *

Even if you had decided to stay behind, that didn't mean you wouldn't put up a fight. Though it was futile to resist, and probably suicidal, you couldn’t remain passive as they closed in on you like a pack of wolves on their prey. It was foolish to believe that you would be able to escape from them; however, you had no choice but to lie to Amelia and Clara so they wouldn’t hesitate. Nothing could be farther from the truth…

What a stupid mistake you’d made.

“Do you even know how to use that knife, lass?”

“Hand that over, before you hurt yourself.”

You swung the blade and hissed, trying to appear menacing when you were anything but. It probably wasn't very difficult for them to guess that you had no idea what you were doing, but you'd never been supposed to know how to fight, in the first place. Your parents didn’t think it was necessary— or appropriate— for you to learn such skills that could have made a difference between life and death. All that had been expected from you was to look pretty, be courteous and learned in the ways of a proper lady, as the perfect princess you should be.

But now you weren’t a princess and you couldn’t afford to look frail.

“Stay away from me! I don’t want to hurt anyone. Just leave me alone…”

They cackled in laughter, amused by your empty threats. Did you really think you stood a chance against them? How naive of you to think that you could even talk your way out of this. There was no way to reason with these brutes.

“Subdue her at once! What are you waiting for?”

It was no use, no matter how hard you fought against the odds. Soon, you were caught and disarmed, vulnerable to their manhandling as you were dragged by the hair, kicking and screaming.

Your dress was ruined and torn and your appearance was less than presentable— unfit for someone of your standing. But that was the least of your concerns.

You needed to get away, though that seemed such an impossible feat. Did you even have any hope now? What would happen? Would you be beaten and raped until you died? The thought that this would be your ultimate fate made you feel sick to the stomach, and you swallowed the bitter taste that rose to your mouth.

It was then that you picked the thunderous sound of cavalry in the distance and, though you didn't know what was going on, you feared the worst. Had they caught your handmaidens? Could it be that it was all in vain?

“Make way for our lord! Move!”

A vicious push sent you tumbling down, and you cried out in pain when your body hit the ground in a rather awkward position. Your face throbbed in pain too, at the slaps you had been proffered, and your head was spinning around as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.

“Stay where you are.”

Everyone's attention suddenly shifted away, to the group of riders that approached, and you blinked a few tears in an effort to clear your sight. Your hands had been tied behind your back but, despite the limited freedom to move and your weariness, you managed to sit up.

After clearing your head, you looked around and tried to find a way to escape— even if it was the last thing you did. Then waited until no one was paying attention to you and made a run for it, getting desperate when the reality you were living began to sink in.

“Where do you think you're going?” Once more, someone stood in your way thwarting your wishes to be free. “Thinking of running away again, eh? You never learn, do you? Stupid woman, you're worse than an animal. Perhaps a few lashings will teach you to obey!”

Shaking your head, you stumbled backwards and scampered away like a frightened rat. That was probably how they saw you, anyways— a detestable pest unworthy of any form of consideration.

Without thinking twice, you took off running in an opposite direction of what you'd intended— not caring where you were headed, at all. You just wanted this nightmare to end and go home.

“Stop right there!”

Amid the uproar of horses and clatter of armor, you'd hoped that somehow you would have gone unnoticed. Of course, it was wishful thinking but desperation had never been the best adviser.

A rather terrifying beast was in your way, or maybe you were in its way. It was hard to say, at this point. Everything was so confusing that you couldn't distinguish the difference anymore. All that you knew was that you were terrified of that demon, as it screamed and kicked its hooves in the air. By some miracle, you managed to react on time— albeit barely— and got out of its way, before you were hurt.

There was confusion all around you, and at that moment you knew there would be no possibility to leave when you were surrounded.

“Seize her immediately!” The brute who had threatened to lash you pushed through the crowd. When he spotted you, lying on the ground, his anger couldn't be any more evident. “Don’t let the prisoner escape!”

Scrambling in an attempt to get on your feet, you shrieked in panic at your inability to shield yourself from the punishment that was sure to come. You would be in for a world of pain, your skin torn to pieces, and no one would save you from it. No one could.

“What is the cause of this commotion?” the smooth but impassive voice of another man spoke, and it was enough to stay the hand of the soldier ready to scourge.

“M-milord!”

Looking up from your sprawled position, and amid tears, you sought the owner of that voice and distinguished a dark shape that seemed to be riding a steed. With a swift move, he dismounted and approached with regal steps whilst you observed him carefully— not daring to move or breathe. You were under no illusions that he was an ally, but his arrival had been opportune and had allowed you to gather your wits.

His appearance was intimidating, clad in black armor unlike anything you'd ever seen. The smell of death clung to him, with blood giving the plate on his chest somewhat of a red tinge— a sight that disgusted you and made your stomach churn. But before you could dwell too much on it, realization came crashing down on you.

It was…  _him_ , there was no doubt about it. Even if you'd never seen him in your entire life, you knew that it had to be the infamous Black Angel who was standing before you, and the knowledge of that didn’t provide any comfort. Of all the possible outcomes you could have imagined, this had to be the worst!

His face was still a mystery, concealed under the protection of his horrendous helmet that, as the stories said, made him look like a demon. You also couldn't help but notice that he was tall— way taller than the average man, for sure— and his presence was imposing, menacing. He looked like the type of individual no one would dare question unless they had a death wish.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” he sounded truly displeased at the lack of response from his underling.

Your tormentor trembled and cast his gaze down, abashed. “Forgive me, milord… but two of the women we captured have escaped and this one tried to do the same!”

Even when you were unable to see his expression, you could feel the aura of wrath emanating from him— though he did a good job at restraining himself.

“What did you say?” His tone held a calm sharpness that cut the silence like a knife, sending a wave of painful tremors down your body.

“We have sent riders to intercept them, milord. They couldn't have gone too far. We will bring them back, I can assure you that.” The man quivered in fear, as he stumbled over his words.

“Who are responsible for this?”

“The guards that were supposed to watch over the prisoners. We found one of them unconscious in the borders of the forest.”

“Then find the women and execute the guards. Failure to comply with my orders will not be tolerated.”

Had he just ordered the execution of those men without a second thought?

“Understood, milord, but what should we do with this one? She helped the others escape.”

He stood before you, unwavering and ominous in his demeanor. Still, for all the fear he instilled, you raised your gaze to meet his in spite of your better judgment. Somehow, you wanted to see if there was a soul in those blue eyes of his. Their shade was the color of the sky, but they might as well have carried the warmth of a glacial. Needless to say, you were scared— terrified for your life— but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you in that state.

Mustering enough courage, you tried to calm down and spoke to him— though you were uncertain of what you'd accomplish. “Let the women go, please. They're no threat to you, I swear.”

The soldier seized your arm and shook you painfully. “Who gave you permission to speak, you—?!”

He was silenced by a curt command of his master, who then regarded you for the first time. “If you must know, I shall be the one to judge that. However, I'm curious. Why do you think I should heed your request?”

You scoffed in disbelief at his nonchalant words. “They're scared and only want to go home! How hard is it for you to understand that?”

“That's hardly my concern, is it? Your king should have considered the consequences of this asinine plan of his. The way I see it, he sent you all to your doom. I am in no way obliged to feel any consideration for those who foolishly discard their existence.”

To be honest, you didn't know what you'd expected from him, but hearing him talk like that… it was disgusting.

“You are despicable! A warrior of your standing needs the leverage of women to have some sort of advantage over his enemy? Not a shred of honor is to be found in you, or in this drove of rapists and murderers!”

The words had come out before you had a chance to stop and reconsider whether it was a good idea to defy him. No amount of indignation or anger could have justified this stupidity, but if you were going to die either way then at least you'd give him an actual reason to be hostile.

Absolute silence reigned, the only visible hint of his reaction that of his blue eyes blazing with rage as his breathing got a little uneven. Asides from that, there wasn't much indication or trace of some emotion. In a way, that helmet did well to conceal his expression and not give himself away to others— except for his eyes. If only you could have had such protection at your disposal, the safety of anonymity, then faking that you were brave wouldn't have been such a struggle.

When his heavy steps began to near, it took all your courage not to draw back. Even if you'd wanted to, his henchman wouldn't have allowed it. He was so close that there seemed to be no space at all in between, and your heart started to race painfully at his dark form looking over yours.

“You have a sharp tongue, woman,” he spat, his voice a faint growl that denoted his efforts to be in control in spite of his aggravation. “If I was in the mood to shed blood so early this morning, I would have cut your head off right here and now. However, that will not do for me…” Turning around, he barked a last order and took his leave. “Bring her to my tent.”

The blood drained from your face at the unexpected turn of events, and you shivered at the unwanted images forming in your mind.

“No… no! Let go of me!” You tried to pull your arm away from the vicious grip of the thug, but it was all in vain. There was no way you would be getting away.

Your captor scowled as he dragged you, though it seemed he was very much enjoying your plight. “Pray that he will give you a swift death, stupid wretch. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Upon arrival, the first thing he did was tying you to a post inside the tent, with no chance to flee again, and your tortuous wait began. Left in solitude with your thoughts, you finally allowed the tears to fall as your mind went back to Credo and the impending doom of this kingdom.

“I am sorry, Credo. I'm so sorry…”

You had failed in the mission that had been entrusted to you, and all hope was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Extract from O Fortuna, Carmina Burana


	2. ii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry for the delay, but it's finally here! Thank goodness...
> 
> Jasiel is truly a precious cinnamon roll, and she's been so patient with me ;A; thank you for bearing with my lazy butt, even though I take my sweet time to post chapters.
> 
> Thanks to my angel, Lucía, for reading my drafts and encouraging me to keep writing ;u; she's a godsend and I don't know what I'd do without her. 
> 
> Here's me trying to bring a closure to this fic, but it seems I will need to write a little more before that happens. This was actually meant to be the last part, but the story turned out to be longer than expected so I had to split it into two chapters. Blame it on my bad habit of making things more complicated than they need to be.
> 
> I hope this is everything you hoped for and, again, I'm sorry for making you wait so long for an update. 
> 
> Also many, many thanks for the comments and the kudos everyone! ;u; hope you enjoy this second part. Let's see what Vergil will do now xD.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. English is not my native language. Sexual content. OoC. Power imbalance. Misogyny. The views depicted in this story in no way represent the author’s ideas in real life. If you don't feel comfortable with the topics of this fic, please, abstain from reading any further or commenting. You've been warned.

**Chapter II**

_"I bemoan the wounds of Fortune_  
_with weeping eyes,_  
_for the gifts she made me_  
_she perversely takes away." [1]_

* * *

What little bravery was left in you began to fade, the more you lingered in solitude and dwelled in the none too bright prospect that lay before you. All kinds of uncertain thoughts assailed your mind without any mercy, and it became more difficult to keep serene as time went by.

Your only solace at the moment was that, at least, Clara and Amelia had managed to escape. You prayed that they would reach the safety of the citadel in time, and that they wouldn't be captured again. Still, you wondered if it would even make a difference— all things considered. Did you really do something good for them, or could it be that you had only prolonged their suffering? Well, be that as it may, you couldn't remain with arms crossed knowing that these monsters would hurt them if they remained here.

These women weren't to blame for your predicament. It had been your choice to stay behind, yours alone, and regardless of what happened you wouldn't regret what you'd done.

Still, you couldn't say you were very happy about this situation. There wasn't much you could do to change it, either way; except hoping that this man, if you could call him that, would give you a swift death.

You were too tired to think about it, however, and nearly passed out from exhaustion after so many distressing events and emotions lived in one day. Sleeping wasn't some you wanted to do, in a moment like this, but your eyelids were heavy and your head was spinning. Perhaps, if you were lucky, you would never wake up again.

In the distance, you heard the rustle of the flaps of the tent being parted— followed by heavy footsteps and the clank of armor. Jumping in fear at the unexpected intrusion, you watched a dark monster approach through the haze of your weary mind and knew that your time had come.

What would it be? A slow painful death, or the mercy of a sweet passing? Somehow, you doubted it would be the latter but one could only dream…

Without a word to spare, he made his way into his temporary accommodations and completely ignored you— as though you were some kind of mutt that wasn't worth a single glance. He didn't seem to consider you were that important to begin with and, somehow, that bothered you for reasons you couldn't quite explain.  Maybe it made you feel painfully aware of the fact that you were a nobody in this place.

In silence he began to remove his dark purple cape, in which there was some strange and macabre figure embroidered with threads of silver. It looked like some sort of skeletal shape with naked and bony wings— most likely a reference to the angel of death, though you weren't certain of that. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to know.

The proximity of this man was unnerving, and perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea that he disregarded you. If you pretended not to be there, would he forget about you?

“What's your name?”

It appeared that he had finally taken notice of your presence, or remembered that you existed.

At the sound of his voice you had gasped in surprise, taken aback, but despite the dread coursing through your body you refused to obey. This man was sorely mistaken if he thought you would give him your name without a second thought. He could force you if he wanted to, but you wouldn’t comply of your own accord.

“So you're not very prone to cooperate…”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him remove his weapons and your heart tightened at the reminder of his punishment. But even with that knowledge, you couldn't bring yourself to give him what he wanted.

His hands went to his head to remove his helmet— an action that both surprised you and confused you, as it managed to catch you off guard. One would actually think that he wore armor day and night, and it made you wonder about his actual appearance for a moment. Despite what others would have you believe, it would have been impossible that absolutely no one had ever caught a glimpse of his features in all these years.

You would be lying if you said that you weren't the slightest curious to see what lay underneath that morbid design of his armor. Yet, at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect. With all the stories you’d heard about him, it seemed almost too bizarre to imagine he would be human. People seemed to be convinced that he was some kind of devil, though they must have had no shortage of reasons to believe these rumors were true.

How wrong they’d been in their speculations all along! You were certain they would call you liar if you'd told them that the demon they feared, in all actually, looked like an angel. And you had to admit it, even as reluctant as you were to do so given the enmity between you and him— the beauty of this man was such that words wouldn't have been enough to describe it. How sad and ironic was to know that beneath that handsome face there was nothing but a cruel heart.

Would this be the reason he chose to hide it behind the ugly facade of a demonic helmet? To be honest, he was pretty for manly standards— though in no way did you think he could be mistaken for a woman. His features were more refined than those of most men you'd seen but, certainly, you could appreciate the masculine appeal in them.

You noticed that he possessed high cheekbones, accompanied by a sharp nose and an angled jaw. His eyes were the blue of the Mediterranean Sea, but the trait that stood out the most was his hair. Reaching the base of his neck, and a little messy, it was very pale— almost unnaturally so. In spite of this, he looked younger than you had imagined he would be. To be honest, you'd expected to see someone way older and not a man in the prime of his youth.

Brushing a hand against his hair, he slicked it back and turned to you with an impatient look. He was probably around the same age as Credo but, like your fiance, the bags under his eyes and the severe expression he wore made him appear more mature. In a way, despite their differences in character, both carried the weight of their responsibilities as leaders and it showed in their semblance.

He didn’t seem very thrilled by your presence, or was still aggravated by your words. Whatever was his problem, you weren't very fond of the idea of being his prisoner either. That was what you were to him, and you weren’t fool enough to believe he would be charitable and treat you well after all he’d done. At this reminder, all thoughts of him being fair left you and you regarded him with a renewed scowl— a futile attempt to intimidate him, of course.

“What are you planning on doing to me?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady in an effort to hide the fear that made your stomach churn.

His blue gaze settled on your form tied to the post, something that didn’t help matters at all. You were in a very vulnerable position in front of him, ignorant of what was going through his head. Would he relish in making you suffer until you breathed your last? You’d never imagined this would be the way you would meet your end, and it wasn't a thought you wished to contemplate.

It was still hard to believe that this was happening. Somehow, it just felt like a bad dream— a nightmare from which you couldn’t wake up. Captured by this man, who many feared, there was no telling what he would do if he discovered who you were. Not only against Fortuna, given your ties with Credo as his betrothed, but against your own kingdom too. With this in mind, revealing your real identity was out of the question— even if that meant he would refrain from harming you because you’d become a valuable asset in his war.

As expected, he didn't respond and you chanced another look at his detestable face. He might have possessed the beauty of angels, but on the inside he was an ugly beast that had tainted the earth with the blood of many. He was your enemy, and you'd do well to remember that for as long as you lived.

“Answer me!” you demanded. The silence was getting more disheartening by the moment, but all he did was observe you. “Or is it that I don't deserve to know the fate you have in store for me, at the very least? What kind of woman do you take me for?”

It wasn’t so much that you wanted to ascertain some sort of superiority over him, more than you were panicked at the uncertainty of your situation. Being as angry and agitated as you were, it was difficult to hold your tongue and this didn't sit well with him.

“If you wish to be in my good graces, then I suggest that you choose your words more carefully. I'll have you know that I'm not very fond of those who talk too much.”

“Whatever it is you find agreeable or not, it matters not to me. You're no lord of mine so do not dare treat me as one of your mindless minions.”

“That arrogant attitude will get you nowhere here. A more intelligent woman would have realized the predicament she is in, by now, and act accordingly to the circumstances.”

“You accuse me of being arrogant and stupid? Not only have you killed those good men and are holding me against my will, but also am I supposed to yield to your demands and seek your grace? One that is nonexistent, since nothing proves you're a man that can be reasoned with or that feels at least a tiny fraction of compassion for others. You don't want me to resort to your clemency, which is something that you lack. What you want is for me to humiliate myself at your feet!”

He unsheathed his dagger with remarkable speed and you froze in place at the shrill sound of the blade. Your startled reaction brought some kind of twisted satisfaction to him, it seemed, given the glint of amusement that appeared in his gaze. Despite your endless tirade and blatant animosity, this man wasn't even taking any of your words seriously. Whether out of contempt, or simple desire to instill dread in you, that didn't matter anymore. Not when your eyes were fixed on the weapon in his hand, wondering when he would decide to use it.

“What's the matter? Suddenly, you don't have anything else to say,” he mocked, enjoying the fact he had the upper hand and you couldn't do anything about it.

These could very well be your last moments, but you refused to give him the pleasure of making you beg for your life. If you were to perish, then so be it. But that didn't mean you weren't scared to die. Of course you were, like any man whose time hadn't come yet would be… perhaps. It was a most terrifying experience that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

As you began to tug at the ropes binding your hands, you felt the tears burn your eyes. For the sake of your pride and dignity, you held them back with all your might and avoided looking at him for fear of a mental breakdown.

Approaching with the manner of a predator, his presence made you feel so small that you wished you could disappear. Anywhere would be a better place to be than here.

Placing the sharp blade under your chin, he forced you to raise your gaze so that your eyes met. A most awkward position, considering you were still seated on the ground— with your hands tied behind. No doubt it was an action meant to remind you that you were beneath him. The fact that he could see your teary eyes only seemed to derive further satisfaction for him.

“Not so brave now, I see.” He was enjoying your distress, the cruel pleasure in his gaze said it all. This was just a game to him, and you were his unfortunate victim.

Yes, you were terrified of what he would do to you… but you would not beg him to spare your life. If this was your end, then you would accept it.

With a dry gulp, you scowled. “Just do it already.”

Arching an eyebrow, his amusement turned into wary curiosity at your sudden change of attitude. “Do you wish to die that much?”

“And what would be the point in answering that question? Regardless of what I say, it's clear that the outcome will be the same; you won't let my offense go unpunished. I have called your honor into question and, though I still do and I have no intention of retracting my statement, I know you'll make an example out of me. So let us be done with this.”

Despite your open defiance, he appeared to be more interested in having some odd form of debate with you.

“And what would someone like you know about honor? Besides being told to keep her legs closed, that is.”

Somehow, you weren't surprised that he would try to demean you for that.

“Is that all the argument you have to offer? Being a woman suddenly makes me devoid of any comprehension?”

He lowered the blade from your neck and tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “It is not the fact that you're a woman which bothers me, but I find it curious that you'd be eager to speak about matters of which you do not possess a clear understanding. Tell me, have you led armies to war? Have you won any battles? Have your men lauded your victories? When you've finally learned of these things, then we can have a discussion about honor.”

Any way he chose to word it, of course it would all come down to your female nature. He was certain that you'd done nothing of those things before and, in his mind, it was unlikely that you ever would. All in all, women leading armies in battle, or doing the fighting, weren't actually the norm— though there were tales you’d heard about some of these extraordinary ladies.

Though a queen might wield an, undoubtedly, powerful influence in the royal court and politics of her kingdom, this was an exceptional case of women reaching the height of power. Even more so when the king was deceased, and the prince heir was still too young to succeed him. In those circumstances, she could rule in her son's place and make the important decisions— in addition to being the commander-in-chief of the military forces. Otherwise, she could only exert a limited— though still significant— authority through her husband as the queen consort.

“I may not have been born a man, but I've learned that the honorable warrior is not the one who learns to draw his sword faster. He knows when to stay his hand and spare others.”

“You speak of mercy as though it were some commodity that everyone should be entitled to receive. Being merciful with your enemies won't lead you to victory."

“So that means even the innocent are fair game to you, then? What kind of deranged reasoning is that?”

“In a war there aren't good or bad people. There are only survivors and there are those who have died. I don't expect you to understand the complexities of an armed conflict, either way.”

His words only made your blood boil with unexpected rage. And before you knew it, you’d opened your mouth to retaliate again in spite of your better judgment. Being on the short end of the stick, one would have thought that you would consider your options with more acumen but that day you seemed to have forgotten any sense of discretion.

“For someone who talks about the ‘complexities of war’, you appear to be very simple-minded in regards to it. Killing people only because they're your enemy is not what I would call an action that involves convoluted choices. It is clear that you don't know of what you're speaking.”

Your words seemed to pique his curiosity, somehow, as he regarded you with mild interest. “That's not an answer I would expect from a lowborn.”

Needless to say, that was not something you'd wanted nor expected to hear from him. If this man discovered that you were the princess, then it would make the situation even more difficult than it was.

“You may think of me as you wish, but keep in mind that not everyone bows down to you. And if you believe that you will use the princess as you pawn in this war, you're mistaken. You won't find her, that I can assure you.”

If Amelia and Clara reached the gates in time, if they succeeded in their escape by the grace of the Almighty, then it would be easier to keep up this charade. However, you didn't think you would be able to escape— despite what you'd promised them. You weren't even certain if you would live too see one more day. What hope did you have now that your life was in his hands?

“I don't think you're in any position to make such declarations. Do you actually believe a pair of inexperienced, and scared, maidens will escape from a pack of well-trained dogs that fear disappointing their master?”

Even if you hated to admit it, he had a point. What made you think this would be a good idea? You'd probably sent them to their doom, without a care for the consequences. Still, doing nothing to prevent their suffering was not the better option. Or that was what you kept telling yourself, at least.

“Prince Credo will never allow it. He won't let you get away with this," you said through gritted teeth, trying to mask your endless frustration at his insulting attitude.

It was hard for you to face the truth. From a realistic standpoint, a rescue in these circumstances would be suicide and you weren't expecting for one to take place. The forces of Fortuna were practically cornered, and it would take a miracle to save this kingdom from disaster. If the homing pigeons even had a remote possibility to deliver the message to your allies, then they were your last chance to get help. But knowing the Empire of Mallet, they had probably released falcons to take them down already.

Still, you couldn't let him think that he would have it that easy.

“Prince Credo…” he mumbled with a frown, as though slightly put off by the mention of that name. “He's nothing more than a man of poor character, who lacks the backbone to do what's necessary and the conviction to win. The fact that he withdrew from battle, with his tail between his legs, tells me that.”

“He was trying to protect his men! Unlike you, he cares about them— he cares about the wives and children waiting for their safe return."

“An honorable death in battle is preferable than cowering and prolonging the inevitable. Today or tomorrow, it doesn't matter; they will die all the same."

"It's easy for to you to say that when your forces outnumber us. Honestly, you have some nerve criticizing his actions when you never gave us a chance and deceived us to invade. Even so, Fortuna will not fall before the likes of you."

He seemed to find your futile attempts to make him doubt his victory rather humorous, if the faint smile on his lips was of any indication. “And who will stop me? Prince Credo? He couldn't even protect his precious bride. What makes you think he has the power to save Fortuna from me?"

Truly, you had no answer to that. He was right; what could he do to preserve Fortuna when he couldn't even help you? What could these people do in the face of such an enemy? You dreaded to think about the outcome, but it was a prospect that you couldn't ignore no matter how hard you tried.

“Now," he began with a hint of delight at your lack of response, slowly circling around you. His piercing eyes were glued to your small form, and in his hands there was still a blade that you didn't want anywhere near you. "What shall I do with you, I wonder?”

He was taunting you, trying to make you lose your nerve so you would fall into a pit of despair. Actually, you were already on the verge of desperation and fear. Perhaps it wouldn't take very long to break you down, and that was the reason you sought release from him— no matter in what form it came.

“Put me to death, if that will appease your anger. We both know there's only one way to end this."

Without another word, you closed your eyes and waited for him to deliver his promise. If there was something you regretted was not seeing your family for a last time. Your parents... they might have been far from perfect, but they'd always meant well for you. The only thing you hoped was that your death wouldn't cause more harm and unnecessary bloodshed.

Despite your false display of courage, you were scared of this man— what he was and what he was capable of doing. Not in vain did he gain an infamous reputation among his enemies, and to think that you could go against him in your disadvantageous condition was laughable.

Why did you keep fighting when it was a lost battle?

As he walked behind you, it was impossible to ignore the sensation of your hairs standing on end at the back of your neck. You inhaled deeply, knowing that any breath could be your last. At least he would make it swift, or so you wished…

But then, he did something you weren't expecting— something that not even once did you consider would happen.

Instead of slitting your throat, as you'd assumed he would, he only cut the ropes tightly bound around your wrists. His actions left you dumbfounded, even more so when his attention soon shifted to something else— namely gazing at some documents that were lying on his desk— and you were left forgotten.

What was going on?

Trying to soothe the pain of your sore and reddened skin, you gave him a suspicious look. You didn't want to jump to conclusions just yet and presume that he had decided to be merciful for some unknown reason.

“Why didn't you kill me?"

Your question had him furrowing his eyebrows,  and he threw an inquisitive glance your way. "I have decided to show you my grace, and you reproach me why I didn't take your life?"

Scowling at his clear mockery, you bit your tongue in an effort not to say anything that would get you further in trouble. Who knew what kind of nefarious intentions he had. And if he was expecting you to say thanks, he might as well forget it!

"Well, forgive me if I have my doubts, but I trust by now you're aware of your more than... controversial reputation."

"Mm-hmm..." He nodded absentmindedly, not paying too much attention to what you were saying— or so it seemed.

"It wouldn't be strange to think that you would punish me."

Still document in hand, he replied with nonchalance. “Make no mistake, woman; that hasn't changed. However, I shall be the one to decide when and which punishment befits your offense best— not you." Giving you a pointed look out of the corner of his eye, he set the parchment down and brushed a rebellious strand of hair off his face. "Though I must admit that you're fairly entertaining company, so be glad that I've decided to keep you around."

"I’m _not_ thanking you for that."

"And neither there's need to," he clarified. "If you thought that I was doing this for your sake, I'm afraid to disappoint you. This is for myself, of course. I can tell you will provide some interesting amusement for me in the coming days."

Your eyes widened at the dubious implications of his statement. He couldn't possibly mean what you were thinking, right?

... _Right??_

"What do you mean?"

The only answer you got was a cynical look that meant to serve as a reminder of the possible horrors you might have to endure. You had no wish to hear it from him, but being kept in the dark was no doubt even worse than knowing the truth. At least you wouldn't have to imagine endless and varied forms of torture and wonder if you would beg to die before the end.

He knew very well that leaving you in suspense would cause you unimaginable distress. Not only had he denied you the mercy of a quick passing, but he also wanted to take the time to devise your suffering.

His actions had only been a fake demonstration of kindness meant to cement a fake sense of security. He was trying to make you feel safe, so he would catch you off guard when least expected. _Damn him!_

With a deep breath, you tried to stay calm and not fall for his provocation.

"Are you not worried that I may decide to flee again?”

His lack of respect, and total disregard for your feelings, made you even less enthusiastic to show him any in return. If he thought that he would make you bend the knee with threats, then he would have to reconsider.

“By all means, if that's what you wish, do it."

"And do you expect me to believe that?" Huffing in displeasure, you did your best to restrain your frustration at his unconcerned attitude.

“I admit it would be fun to see you try once more. There's not much I can do if you succeed in leaving this camp unscathed, and evade our pursuit. However, if you fail in your endeavors— and believe me you will—, I must warn you these men haven't seen a female in months. You may not find their treatment enjoyable, and I won't lift a finger to help you when you're caught. Do you have any idea what kind of obscene things they can do to young women like you?"

The thought made you flinch in fear, a reaction that didn't escape his notice— to your misfortune and his delight.

It wasn't for the reasons he probably imagined that you dreaded this scenario. In truth, you didn't know much about the dealings between men and women other than what your mother had told you— and some rather funny experiences that you'd heard by chance. It wasn't something proper that a young lady needed to know and your mother never enlightened you properly on the subject, so as not to impart any immoral teachings to her daughter. It wouldn't do any good if your mind was filled with such lewd images, lest you would fall prey to the whispering of lustful demons and compromise your chastity before marrying.

However, you had been taught that no one else other than your husband should touch you in such an intimate way. It was a terrible sin that would earn you a place in hell for all eternity. It was wrong to even think about it!

"I wasn't mistaken when I said your men are a drove of rapists."

"I can assure that back home they're gentlemen with their ladies. It is only the excitement of war that makes them forget their manners. You'll have to excuse them for their behavior."

"So you're telling me they are well trained pigs that occasionally have some manners? Now _that_ is a nice way to word it," you said, with a bitter smile.

Quite honestly, you'd seen this one coming but it still made you feel so powerless and scared to know that you were at the mercy of this individual. It would take only one word from him, one single word, to cast you into a world of pain. A world from which there was no return.

"If you wish to be a fool, then I will give you permission to do it. But don't expect to be spared when you're facing the consequences of your witless decisions."

Face the consequences? What did you even do to deserve this punishment? You didn't understand why the Almighty was doing this you. Was this a test from the heavens?

“Wash yourself and eat. I don't know what you've heard about me, but I'm not as barbaric as you think.”

He might not have beaten you senseless after what you'd done, but that didn't mean he'd been benevolent so far. Still, for his standards, maybe _this_ classified as being kind.

“Undress myself, here? In front of you? You must think I am stupid.”

“If I wanted to have any sort of intimacy with you, you would already know it." You could almost hear the roll of his eyes, as he spoke with a hint of derision. “I'm telling you to wash yourself not because I have any wish to see you nude. It's because I have no intention of breathing the same air with someone as filthy and unsightly as you.”

Well, he had a point. Your appearance wasn't one of the best and your clothes were dirty from having been dragged around everywhere. But you didn't care about any of that at the moment.

"I'm being kept here against my will, and the only thing you care about is that I don't become an inconvenience to you?"

Complaining would accomplish nothing, you knew it, but it was the only means to vent your anger.

"I don't understand why you're so bent on leaving. It won't make a difference. Soon, the gates of the citadel will fall and there will be no place to run or hide anymore."

"What makes you think that victory is yours?"

"A better question would be... what makes you think it's not?" The smugness in his words was hard to miss and, by the Almighty, you wished you could wipe that expression of conceit off his face.

"Fortune may smile upon you today, but tomorrow she will bring your ruin. Just like she's done to us."

As a scowl settled on his features, you could at least revel in this small victory. Reminding him that he too should fear the whims of fate would surely make him realize that no one could escape her.

"You think I haven't lived in misery and ruin myself? I know of the terrible fickle nature of fortune better than you think, so don't presume you can scare me with a few words. Now get out of my sight and make yourself look like a decent human being."

"You can't order me around! Let me go if I'm such an annoyance—"

"Guards!" His voice boomed with a snarl that made you recoil just a bit and, soon, two men stepped inside in a rush. They must have thought their lord had enough with you, for their hands had reached for their swords and you could only stare dumbfounded. “Take this filthy wench to clean herself immediately and grt rid of those tatters. Her appearance is deplorable and it terrorized Geryon when she jumped in front of him like a suicidal fool."

Realizing that his intentions had nothing to do with ordering your execution, they adopted a more relaxed stance.

"Right away, milord.”

As he gave his orders, one of the soldiers seized your arm and gave you a sharp look that meant for you to comply without being a hassle. Though you didn't precisely enjoy all the manhandling you'd been subjected to, as of late, you didn't put up too much resistance. Mainly because you didn't wish to linger in the presence of that horrible man, and also because you had no strength left in you anymore after all the distress and tears.

"Bring someone to help me remove my armor, and be quick. I don't have all day."

"It shall be done, milord," the other soldier replied as he bowed his head.

"You're all dismissed. Now leave," were his words before you were pulled with a harsh tug into the afternoon breeze.

* * *

Amid shoves and demands for you to stop lagging and making others waste their time, you made it into some kind of enclosed space and were ordered to undress.

It wasn't something you were keen on doing but, since at least you were given the opportunity to have some privacy, you complied and washed yourself. Not because you were thinking of pleasing him in his demands. In all honesty, he could go crawl in a hole and die for all you cared. You just wanted some time to yourself, where you wouldn't have to pretend that you were brave.

As you poured water on your quivering body, you shed bitter tears and cursed your terrible luck. Cursed him for the misery and death he was sowing in these lands without any remorse.

Despite the apparent calmness of your secluded space, you still jumped at shadows and were on edge— fearing anyone might try to do something bad while you were in this state. At least the water wasn't cold. Sea water in this region was warm nearly all year round, but you still would have much preferred something a little more comfortable. You began to miss the luxury of flower petals and exquisite scented oils imported from the East for your hot baths— the softness of your bed and expensive clothes. How many things had you taken for granted before, and now you'd probably never go home.

A rather rude call for you to hurry up served as a reminder that you had to steel yourself for what was to come, if you hoped to survive. Wiping your tears away, you reached for the cloth that was provided to dry your body and started to panic when you saw that your garments had disappeared.

"Where are my clothes?!" you demanded to know. You should have kept an ear out for that stupid guard instead of wasting time in feeling sorry for yourself!

"I got rid of them. You won't be needing those anymore."

You couldn't believe it. This had to be a bad joke but, sadly, you knew it wasn't.

"What am I supposed to wear now??"

"Wrap yourself in that cloth and stop complaining. Your screeching hurts my ears."

"These rags? You cannot be serious!"

"Unless you'd rather go naked, then I would suggest you do as you're told."

"Forget it. I won't place foot outside until you give me some actual clothes!"

The guard sighed tiredly from the other side of the door and grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Meanwhile, you were trying not to have a breakdown, but it was becoming a little hard to hide the fact you weren't unaffected.

"I'm just following orders of my lord. I would appreciate it if you didn't give me trouble because I will have to get you out of there, by force if I must, covered or not. I haven't been proffered any clothes for you and I don't have any that will fit your size. Besides, I don't think your new master will mind that you're wearing a few less layers."

"He's not my master!" you cried out, frustration taking hold as angry tears ran down your flushed cheeks.

"The way I see it, you're his property now. There's not much you can do about that. The sooner you accept it, the easier your life will be."

"I want to go home!"

"Stop making a fuss, already. It isn't as bad as you think. You women have it all easy, you know? All you need is beauty and a personality to match, and even the most callous warrior will take a fancy to you. Now, I won't try to understand what he's thinking. All I can say is that no man would have gotten away with his life after such offense, and you're very lucky for that. Otherwise you'd be dead by now.”

"And am I supposed to feel happy for that?”

"Well, that's for you to decide. But if I were in your place, I would try to make the most of it. Who knows? Maybe if you please him well, he may decide to make you his concubine. Sadly, I can't promise that he will marry you. I reckon he intends to make your lady his bride."

This had to be the oddest way to comfort someone, and it wasn't working too well. You didn't want to be his concubine! That would be a disgrace, living in sin with a man that you already despised.

However, it didn't take long for your mind to register something that certainly was a shocking revelation to you.

"Wait a moment... what did you say?" The tears had stopped due to your bewilderment, as you tried to comprehend those words.

"I said that if you're smart enough, you could become his concubine—"

"No, no. After that! Did you say that he intends to make the princess his bride?"

You... _his wife_?? Absolutely not!

Your initial assumption had been that he would use you to have some leverage against his enemies. Holding hostage the betrothed of the future king of Fortuna surely had to mean something. But if he were to marry you, then your prospects would be very different. Of course, it didn't meant that it had to happen. Your kingdom could choose to go to war with Mallet, instead of yielding to their demands. However, it would be far more benefiting if an agreement could be worked out to cease hostilities.

If Fortuna fell, there was no doubt your family would try to find you another suitor as soon as possible. And if your union with him could prevent a war, then that was all the more reason to believe this marriage could take place.

The guard seemed to fluster a little at your insistence. "I have spoken too much. It's not my place to judge the decisions of lord Aeneas. Don't ask me because I have no idea."  
  
_Aeneas…_

So that was his name. It felt strange to think about it, since you'd always known him by his vile sobriquet. It hadn't occurred to you, until then, that he might have had a real name.

"I'll try to get you some clothes later but, for heaven's sake, stop being so difficult. Be smart and try to get on his good side, if you wish to survive. Here his word is the law, so you should strive to be agreeable in his eyes."

Well, he might as well have asked for the moon. Even if you knew it was the intelligent thing to do, something told you that it wouldn't be simple to accomplish. This matter with Aeneas had become personal, and you couldn't surrender to your enemy without a fight at the very least.

However, perhaps, this was the first time you'd been treated with something akin to decency since you'd been brought here.

"I thought all Mallet soldiers were terrible men," you whispered with a nervous smile, wiping your tears away.

"Don't misinterpret, young lady. If there comes the day I should put you to death, I won't hesitate to strike."

"I shall keep that in mind, then."

It would be good to remember that, in this place, nobody was your friend.

* * *

You walked back in silence, under the scrutinizing and intent gaze of other soldiers that quickly took notice of your presence.

With damp hair sticking to your bare skin, and only a cloth wrapped around your body, you felt very much naked before the eyes of everyone. What was Aeneas trying to do? Subjecting you to this sort of humiliation was unacceptable!

It was hard to ignore the licentious or hostile looks from those men, but you did your best to pretend you were blissfully oblivious to them. That was the only thing you could to preserve some of your dignity.

"Hey, where you going with that pretty lass? Did you plan on having fun without us?"

They were gathered around a fire, eating and drinking like pigs. Still, you couldn't help the growl your stomach gave and hoped no one heard it. Now that you recalled, you hadn't been given any fresh water in a long time and certainly you hadn't tasted any food ever since the previous day.

"Don't get any funny ideas. She's the property of lord Aeneas now. If you touch her, you might as well have a death wish."

That statement was enough to kill your appetite, and you had to bite your tongue to hold back a bitter remark. However, once you were out of earshot, you turned to the man with a none too happy expression.

"I would appreciate it if you stopped saying I'm his property."

"Better get used to the idea. If he hasn't killed you yet, he must have some other use for you. I won't try to guess what it is, though."

Even if he tried to pretend ignorance, the meaning behind his words wasn't lost to you. Despite it all, your mind kept going back to what he'd told you earlier. If Aeneas intended to make the princess his wife, then your mother had been right in her concern about getting you married as soon as possible. After hearing stories about noble ladies being abducted by men, and forced to lie with them for the sole purpose of demanding marriage, it wasn't hard to understand.

Suddenly, the reason for your kidnapping was starting to become more clear at this point. While you had no certainty about Aeneas's true intentions, and this was all pure speculation, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to imagine this was the case.

There was more than your honor at stake. If a marriage with him happened, not only would you be stuck with this terrible man for the rest of your life but such union would also ensure that Mallet exerted control over your kingdom. By forcing you to become an ally, they would annex your territory to theirs and you would have to answer to the authority of emperor Mundus or else.

As unfavorable as that sounded, you found comfort in the fact that at least you had some advantage over Aeneas. He seemed to have no idea who you were, and you intended to keep it that way for as long as you could.

* * *

When you returned, you noticed that his armor had been removed. However, from what you could observe, the armor stand was empty. Someone must have taken it to do some proper maintenance, you thought.

It was a little strange to believe this man was the infamous Black Angel of whom you'd heard so much about. Without the bulk of metal covering his body, or the sight of a monstrous helmet masking his identity, he didn't give the impression of a consummated killer. However, you knew better than to be deceived by appearances. He was as much dangerous as before, and you wouldn't let a handsome face fool you.

Wearing a tunic of blue silk, with dark pants and leather boots, Aeneas was sitting in a wooden armchair with soft pillows. He did very little to acknowledge you at first, having been too engrossed in the reading of a parchment that seemed to have seized him completely. Even as the guard announced your arrival, Aeneas only told him to leave and you were all alone with the white-haired man— to your ever-growing discomfort.

As you wrapped your arms around your wet and shivering form, you decided to make yourself comfortable among a pile of pillows and skins. With not much left to do, other than hope he wouldn't disturb your much needed peace, you focused on becoming invisible. Not in the literal sense, of course, but it was your intent to minimize the awareness of your presence. Still, maybe if you wished it enough, you would find the way to disappear.

At some point, unfortunately, he remembered that you existed.

"You should have something to eat."

It was only then that your attention was brought upon the tray of food waiting on a table. At least you had to give him some credit; he didn't intend to starve you to death, but you weren't confident about his good intentions.

You eyed him with suspicion, knowing that he was only feigning a sense of kindness with you. Deep inside, he had ulterior motives that you wouldn't dare to imagine. Why else would he behave nicely— at least, more than you had hoped he would be— and civilized all of a sudden?

"Your concern for my well-being is most heartwarming, but I don't need it," you replied with a caustic tone, unrelenting in your dislike for this individual.

In all honesty, you didn't care about the advice the guard had given you. It wasn't your intention to please Aeneas, so he would consider making you his concubine. By the heavens, such a possibility was unthinkable and most reprehensible!

"If you don't eat anything, then how do you plan on having the strength to even talk back to me? Starving yourself will accomplish nothing useful. I thought you were smarter than that, but maybe I was wrong."

You brought your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, trying to shield your body from his sharp and wandering gaze. The idea of wearing, practically, nothing in front of him didn't sit well with you but it was evident that he cared very little for your own comfort.

You had no clothes to don now. Well, if you had to sleep like this, then so be it. You weren't asking anything from him!

"I'll be fine," you spat rather gruffly. "It won't be the first time I fast. Maybe, I can pray in the meantime and ask our Lord to forgive your sins. Though I'm not sure if salvation is still within your reach.”

Actually, you wished you could at least have some water to drink, but your pride was greater than even your need to hydrate yourself.

"I see you enjoy defying me."

"It may be the only entertainment this place has to offer."

This had to have displeased him, for Aeneas jaw was set tight and he appeared to be gritting his teeth. "Do you think such meaningless words affect me?"

"They must not be as meaningless as you make them out to be, if you decided to bring me here. Was it not to punish me for my insolence?"

"I warn you, woman. Do not test my patience." His tone dropped an octave though his expression remained unfazed, for the most part. "You seem to forget that I can make your stay a very unpleasant experience. One you won't be able to forget in this lifetime."

You provided no answer to his threat, mainly because you didn't have anything to say. It was true, in any case. He could turn your life into a living hell if he so desired, but there was still that part of you that refused to surrender— even if you were risking your life for it.

"Do as you wish. If you starve yourself to death, let no one say it was my fault."

_The nerve he had!_

"Indeed it is, when you've abducted me and are holding me hostage!"

Aeneas observed you with a conniving look in his eyes, as though he knew something you didn't. Suddenly, he didn't seem as aggravated as he'd been a moment ago— despite your insistence to keep antagonizing him. It was almost as if he found the whole situation amusing, for some reason that eluded you.

As he rested a pale hand near his mouth, concealing an arrogant smirk that appeared— though you heard his odious chuckle— you couldn't hold back your tongue any longer. Was it even possible for you to shut up for five minutes in his presence?

“Why do you stare at me in that way? Do you find my misery that amusing?”

“I suppose you'd like to hear that I do. It may be my only source of entertainment at hand, after all." He was trying to use your own words against you, but you'd make sure he wouldn't get the reaction he wanted from you. "Humor me, if you would. Was it you the who fooled one of the guards and then left him unconscious?” That wasn't a question you'd expected to hear, but denying your involvement would make no difference to your situation. “Should I take your silence as a yes?”

“Where is he?" you asked, instead, trying to sound casual about it.

“You were there when I ordered his execution. Why do you ask?”

That was right. With all the commotion of your capture, you'd almost forgotten about it.

“You would execute your men because of that?”

“They failed to comply with my orders, which were to custody captives of great value to me. Considering what's at stake, I believe I was quite lenient with them."

“Even with your own people you don't have a shred of mercy in your heart. Unbelievable…”

Why did you even care what happened to these men? None of them would have moved a single finger for you, and they surely didn't feel any sympathy for your misery.

“You seem worried all of a sudden. Could it be that you feel pity? Or maybe the knowledge that someone died because of your stupidity is unsettling?”

This man took great pleasure in infuriating you, that was a fact of which you had no doubts.

“Don't you dare put the blame on me. I only wished to go home, where I rightfully belong. Even a caged animal would seek to escape from its captors.”

He scoffed in response. "An animal knows no better of its situation. So long as it's well fed and treated, it will obey its master."

"Well, I'm not an animal and you're not my master! You cannot take away a person's freedom for the sake of your wicked entitlement to the lives of others!"

"Freedom? I don't know a single man, let alone a woman, who can proclaim that. Some are subservient to the will of their masters, that may be true, but others are slaves to their own passions and ambitions."

"It seems you know quite a lot about that. One would think you speak from experience." The sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glowered at him.

"That's something I would rather keep to myself, if you don't mind."

"Good, because I care not for any of that."

Diverting your attention, in hopes that ignoring him would get him to leave you alone, you shivered and ran down your fingers through your damp locks of hair. Hopefully tonight wouldn't be too chilly, for you didn't want to be cold and get sick. Not having any food would be counterproductive to that effect, though, but you still refused to give in to his games.

The fact that his eyes were still fixed on you, for some reason you couldn't fathom, was something that didn't put you at ease. You only wished he would stop staring at you already. It was most unnerving!

But just as you started to find some entertainment in combing your hair with your fingers, you realized that— to your immeasurable horror— he'd stood up and began to approach.

It didn't take you long to understand his true intentions, as you tried to crawl away and out of his reach. You'd reacted too late, however. There wasn't much you could do to stop him and, as he got a harsh hold of your arm, you felt like a mouse that had been caught by a cat— futilely thrashing and screeching in an effort to escape.

"Be still," Aeneas grumbled as he grabbed a lock of your hair, something that made you flinch and slap his hand away. Not even fazed by your reaction, he merely caught it in time before you could land a smack on his face.

“What do you think you're doing? Don't touch me!”

One of his arms wrapped tightly around you to prevent any more struggling, and you screeched in anger at your inability to break free. He was far stronger than you were, and this left you in a vulnerable position.

"Let go!" you cried out, kicking your legs as your back was pressed against his chest. "Get your hands off me!"

“Quiet, woman. Stop provoking me."

_Stop provoking him?!_ Were you supposed to sit idly and be all smiles whilst he manhandled you? This man really had no shame or remorse telling you that. Then again, it would be good to remember who you were dealing with.

There was no point in keeping this up when you knew you couldn't overpower him. Besides, it would only take a little more struggling for the cloth wrapped around you to become undone and leave you naked in front of him. That was something you didn't want to happen, if you could help it. You didn't think you could endure the shame of being seen like that.

However, his intent didn't appear to be as... intimate as you had imagined it would be. Instead, he examined you the way one inspected an object of remarkable interest— though you wouldn't readily trust him on that.

"There's the lingering perfume of jasmine and anise in your hair and body…” he began, holding one of your locks in his long fingers. A rather strange observation on his part, as he didn't strike you as the type who would care about such trivial matters— much any less comment on them. "Your hands are soft and your skin has no sun blemishes or other marks from menial labor."

You had to say that you didn't like the sudden turn this conversation was taking.

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"It has come to my attention that you don't look nor behave like a woman who has spent years in servitude. Now, if I had to make an educated guess, I would say that's because you're not a servant and never were. You're used to talking down to others and are too proud for your own good, even when your life is at risk."

Your breath caught in your throat at the sole suggestion that he might have already solved the mystery of your identity. Aeneas was more cunning than you'd thought, more dangerous than you could have imagined.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." As futile as you knew it would be, you still tried to deny it— without much success.

"You didn't think you could fool me for too long, did you?" He scoffed and seized your chin quite roughly, forcing you to look into his eyes. _"Princess_."

It was the end of your charade. He had discovered who you were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Extract belonging to Fortune Plango Vulnera.
> 
> For those who have read my other Vergil/Reader fic, Mother of Sorrows, you surely have noticed the nod to the name Aeneas. 
> 
> To clarify some doubts, for the people that were confused by the random change of name, I use Aeneas as an alias for Vergil because I don't like Gilver that much. It's a reference to the Aeneid, written by the poet Vergil.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all! ♥♥♥


	3. iii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, again, so very sorry for the delay!!! Stuff happens but, well, too long to explain xDD
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Dedicated to my cinnamon roll **angeljasiel**. Thanks for your patience! And to my beautiful friends **Lucía** and **Lala** for their endless support!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. English is not my native language. Sexual content. OoC. Power imbalance. Misogyny. The views depicted in this story in no way represent the author’s ideas in real life. If you don't feel comfortable with the topics of this fic, please, abstain from reading any further or commenting. You've been warned.

**Chapter III**

"I'll say it again; I have no idea what you're talking about."

Your voice was uncharacteristically calm, considering your unfortunate circumstances and the fact that you had no way to turn the tide in your favor. The truth was, you were trying so damn hard not to give your emotions away but it was proving to be more difficult than you'd imagined. Perhaps even futile.

Aeneas’s cool stare lingered on your troubled eyes for a moment and, somehow, you knew that he had seen right through your facade of pretense. This man had turned out to be more astute than expected and deceiving him wouldn't be easy— if possible, at all. Yet you still tried to mislead him, even when he was certain that you were the princess he was looking for and nothing could change his mind.

“Do you take me for a fool?" he sounded irked by your words, and your nonchalant attempt to deny the truth.

He wasn't expecting for you to readily admit it, was he?

"Make of that what you will. I don't give a damn, to be honest." There you went again, with your insufferable mouth! You had to mentally facepalm yourself, knowing that once more you were being this stubborn woman who didn't want to yield.

In a way, he was right. A smarter woman would have acted accordingly to the situation and tried to take advantage of it, but you were bent on making a point— on showing him that he couldn't exert any control over you. Of course, that was just wishful thinking on your part. The reality was very different and your life probably wasn't even yours anymore. It was a truth you refused to accept, no matter what.

Turning you around in his arms, Aeneas still held you against him— despite your obvious discomfort and your constant struggle. Oh, how you wished he would stop manhandling you already! Being so close to him was affecting you in ways you couldn't, and feared, to comprehend. Never before had you dealt with someone like him and suspecting his less than decent intentions didn't help matters, at all. It made his touch burn, the more certain thoughts kept invading your mind— thoughts that had to be whispers of demons.

He was doing it on purpose, molesting you for the sake of his wicked pleasure. What a hateful man.

"Mind your tone with me. Have you forgotten who I am? You may be of royal blood but against me you hold no power."

His blue eyes narrowed as you pushed him away, eager to get his hands off you. This time you succeeded in breaking free and put as much distance as you could between you two. Without wasting another second, your fixed the cloth tightly around your torso so it wouldn't fall off. Heavens forbid that you would go through such a humiliating display of nudity.

"You're mistaken in your assumptions. I am not the princess!"

Somehow, your pathetic endeavors to deny the obvious seemed to amuse him endlessly. Pacing around you again, Aeneas seemed intent in showing that he was a dangerous predator ready to pounce on you—his not so unsuspecting victim— at any time.

"You were supposed to deliver a letter with the royal seal, which now is in my possession, requesting support to your allies. Will you try to deny that, as well?"

Surely they had found those documents among your belongings. Still, you were under no obligation to answer any of what he wanted to know— even when your silence spoke louder than words.

"Your dear fiance must have been delusional to believe that this hare-brained plan of his would work," he continued, almost in a mocking manner that you found most exasperating. "Sending his bride right into the lion's den... one would get the impression he doesn't care about you.”

It was unexpected, but it hurt to hear him say that— despite you shouldn't have let his affronts get to you. Credo only did what he thought was best, and you couldn't blame him for it. Even if there was a small chance that you could be captured by the enemy, you'd been given a mission and you had to ensure it was accomplished.

"And you spoke of honor to me, when you were willing to flee at the first chance? You, the woman who would have become queen of Fortuna."

That was something you couldn't bear to hear. For him to question your sense of duty, and push you around like you were nothing... it was insulting. There was no point in denying the truth anymore, you decided then. Aeneas already knew that you were the princess, and it would only make you look like a coward if you kept disagreeing.

"Very well, then. No more games between us," you began, raising your chin high as he came to a stop in front of you, his eyes bearing a demeaning look. His remarkable height still made him appear intimidating, as he gazed down at your smaller frame, but if you hoped to stand on equal ground with him then backing down was out of the question. "It is true, I am who you’re looking for; fiancée of his Highness Prince Credo, just as you suspected. And if there’s one thing I will not allow you to question is my loyalty. I would never abandon my future husband in these dire circumstances, of my own accord. Believe me, I would have stayed by his side until the end but he entrusted me with an important task. I could not disobey him, even if I wanted to.”

"It was nothing more than a foolish course of action that accomplished nothing. The way I see it, now you're my prisoner and it is all thanks to him. Tell me, woman, do you think he'll come to save you? Do you believe he will take that risk for you, after all?”

If he had to ask such a question, then could that mean he was not actually expecting a rescue? Either that, or he was trying to play some dirty mind game on you— which actually wouldn’t be far fetched, all things considered. If it was the latter, then he was being successful in his endeavors. You weren’t actually sure of what to expect, but it was better to quash those hopes and face the reality— that Fortuna was in grave danger of falling at the hands of foreigners, and the future of a dynasty was hanging by a thread.

“I trust him to do what's necessary for the good of Fortuna.” No matter if doubt was eating away at your heart and mind, you wouldn’t show him weakness by despairing at the thought of being at his mercy.

“Even if that meant feeding you to the wolves?"

His words were disturbing in the light of what they implied, and you had to admit that it was something you didn't expect to hear. It made you uneasy, when you considered it. Would Credo be capable of something like that? In truth, you had no way to know his thoughts for certain but, even so, you had to be resolute in your decision.

"I may not be queen of Fortuna, and I'll probably never be, but I know my duty and my survival is not a priority when the kingdom is at stake. I'm not waiting to be rescued, that I can assure you.”

“So that is all the answer you can give?”

“And that is all you'll get from me. From now on, my life is in the hands of the Almighty. He sees everything and, though I may not live through this, someday he'll give you what is due.”

Aeneas arched an eyebrow and scoffed. "That is nothing more than a complacent answer for someone who is powerless to fight against the circumstances.”

“Powerless I may be, but if I must face this adversity then I will do so without the shadow of doubt in my heart."

“Your words are fiery and bold for someone so young, but there's one detail you've forgotten." Aeneas seemed to try to make you flinch by stepping uncomfortably closer, until you could feel his breathing on your face. Those blue eyes narrowed, but you saw the glint of dark amusement in them as they focused on your bitter expression. "Here, I am god and I have control over your fate."

_Blasphemy!_ This man had the nerve to liken himself to a god, just like that abhorrent Emperor Mundus? If there was one thing you were certain was that Mallet truly was a land beyond salvation, a place of heretics and infidels who would dare disregard the word of The One.

"And what shall my fate be, then? What will you do to me? Are you going to have me tortured? Will you kill me?" you spat with derision, holding his gaze as you tried to steady your voice and your breath. It was hard to keep your composure in front of him, when your heart was pounding inside your chest, knowing that Aeneas certainly held power over your life— a power you feared deep inside.

"I have a few interesting ideas in mind." His comment was nonchalant, bordering on cynical even, and it incensed you at the way he would be so casual about it. But what could you expect from someone as despicable as him?

Of course he would have no qualms in hurting and humiliating you. What was there to doubt about that? The more you thought about it, the more the words of that guard started to make sense— though you couldn’t be certain just yet. It wouldn’t do any good to presume to know the intentions Aeneas had with you, but it was obvious he was up to no good.

"Do as you wish, but I will not be your whore!"

“What you desire is of no concern to me. You'll remain here and do as I command."

"I refuse!"

"You have no choice in this matter. If you wish to keep your family and land from harm, then you'd better be an obedient girl."

He wanted to use you as leverage against your family, of course. You knew this would happen, and it didn't take a genius to draw that conclusion. If he had the princess as his captive, he could use her to bargain an agreement and your parents would be forced to do something about it just to ensure your safety.

If you were forced to marry him, after all this, to prevent a war with Mallet, then you would have no choice in the matter. It was the duty of a princess to do what was best for her people, or there would be dire consequences.

At least you found some comfort amidst this turmoil. Even if he didn't openly admit it, you were a valuable prisoner to him— which meant he wouldn't risk your well-being. Physically, at least. You wouldn't be su hopeful that he would treat you with the respect you deserved, but you could be insolent like him too.

As though he'd read your thoughts, Aeneas spoke. “I warn you, if you behave like a spoiled brat and make me lose my patience, I may decide you're not worth the trouble.”

_Ugh_ , what a disgusting individual. But even if you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, it was better to hold your tongue rather than saying things you might regret later. That didn't stop you from glaring at him with eyes full of animosity, however.

"Don't give me that look. If you must hate someone, then hate your dear betrothed. He's the reason you're here, after all."

"Your mind games are useless. Speak and slander all you want, but I will not curse him for something that was not his fault."

"I wonder for how long will you be able to keep this attitude of defiance.”

“Until you actually start showing me some respect,” you challenged, unwilling to relent.  
  
"Milord!" A new voice joined in, suddenly— a most welcome interruption.

"What is it?" Aeneas's voice was gruff, and he didn't sound very pleased.

His annoyance wasn't lost to the guard guard, of course, as he bowed his head and attempted to explain the reason he had so unceremoniously barged in.

"Forgive my intrusion, but lord Griffon requires your presence. You may want to see this."  
  
That didn't seem to ease his disgruntlement, but Aeneas stepped away— to your relief— though he still eyed you intently.  
  
"Very well, princess. We shall see..." Turning away from you, he headed outside and left you to your thoughts.  
  
The guard threw a glance in your general direction, and somehow it felt as though he was reproaching your attitude and futile anger towards his lord. But what did he care? He hadn't been captured! He didn't have to endure this humiliation and effrontery. His personal integrity wasn't in danger, neither that of his kingdom and family.  
  
"What are you standing there for?” you barked at him, already tired of this. “Leave! I want to be alone."  
  
Alone to sulk in your misery...

* * *

You barely ate any food from the tray.

It wasn't because of its taste, however. If you were to be honest, the quality of the dish was worthy of a king. Still, it was hard to get rid of the bitter taste in your mouth that the recent encounter with Aeneas had left.

You tried to down some bites, reminding yourself that it was for your own good— because you needed to be in good health. But there was that part of you, which didn't want to accept his charity and be subjected to his mockery again.

At one point, your paranoid mind contemplated the possibility that your meal could be poisoned and that you would die a slow painful death. Of course, it was improbable Aeneas would order something like that. No matter what he said, it was impossible to deny that you were of more value to him alive than dead. Or that was what you chose to believe, at least.

You chugged what seemed to be a gallon of fresh water down your parched throat. _Sweet bliss!_ Wine and mead were nothing compared to this gift. Besides, you wouldn't want to get tipsy around Aeneas if you could help it.

Sleeping for a bit wouldn't be a bad idea, though. With everything that had happened over the course of the day, you were exhausted both mentally and physically. But you weren't sure if it was even convenient or advisable to let your guard down in a place like this. It wasn't a good idea, true, but you needed to rest at some point. It would be difficult to continue under these conditions. Not to mention that you were worried about the reason why he had left. What could be so important to require his attention all of a sudden? And also the way that man had intruded with such urgency…

You had a bad feeling about this, but it was unsettling to consider the possibilities. Sending a prayer for Amelia and Clara, you hoped the Almighty would protect them and tried to find the peace of mind to actually sleep for a bit. There was a good spot by the stove and the pavilion was rather spacious and comfortable— definitely fit for someone of his standing. This man liked expensive and high-quality things, that you could already tell. No doubt he had a lot of resources at hand and must have attained quite the amount of wealth and influence serving the emperor Mundus.

Well, either way, you wouldn't exactly have to be at close proximity with him. Thank goodness. The last thing you wanted was to share the same bed as him and, while he hadn't been open about such lewd intentions, you wouldn't put your trust on him.

Sharing such an intimate space with a man, for who knew how long, didn't sit well with you. If only you had some means to protect yourself, at least…

Looking for his weapons, you huffed when you found they were nowhere to been seen. They'd probably been taken to the armory, along with the rest of his equipment.

Either way, you didn't think you could pull off another escape again... not when there were many soldiers watching and on the alert. The moment you tried to step foot outside, you would be caught and you reckoned that Aeneas wouldn't be too happy about that. Honestly, you didn't want to bring any sort of unwanted attention on you so you decided it was best to stay low... for the time being.

After a quick search, you spotted some furry skins and spare pillows that you could use to prepare some kind of makeshift place to rest. Sleeping on the floor wasn't something you were used to, but this was better than nothing. Even if he had a wooden bed of elaborate carvings, a cozy mattress filled with a myriad of feathers, sheets made of silk from the East, and a coverlet made of the softest fur, you weren't sleeping with him. That was out of the question!

You would rather sleep with the dogs and not be anywhere near him, if given a choice. Alas, that was not the case, so you'd have to endure his presence all throughout the night most likely. He wanted to keep you around as a trophy of his next conquest, so you doubted he would send you away or give you your own space— not after you'd tried to flee. That guard had put it rather bluntly, in front of everyone; you were his lord's property now. As if you were some kind of object or slave! Who did Aeneas think he was to make such claims?

This didn't bode well and, to be honest, you were quite terrified of what would happen. Deep down, you knew you didn't have any power to change your situation or fight back and Aeneas was right— despite his hateful reasoning and how much you loathed to admit it.

How much you despised him!

As you wallowed in anger and unproductive emotions, three other men walked in all of a sudden— to your panic and displeasure. Couldn't you have a little privacy, at the very least? Why would they even try to set foot in here while Aeneas was absent?

"What do you want? Your lord is not here!"

As expected, they ignored you and carried on their business— which was carrying a rather large chest inside— before being quickly dismissed by one of them.

"There's no need to fear, young madam."

"Who spoke about fear? Can't a lady have some privacy, or I do not even have the luxury of solitude anymore?" You didn't even bother looking at the remaining male, and it was difficult to temper your behavior after being slighted so many times. Aeneas still managed to infuriate you, even when he wasn't around.

You might have been a prisoner, but you were a valuable one and deserved some respect!

"I understand your concern, but it's not our intent to disturb you without a good reason. In truth, we came here to deliver your belongings as lord Aeneas requested."

"Did you say... my belongings?"

Throwing a glance to the wooden case, you realized that indeed it belonged to you.

With a more attentive inspection, you could see that the padlock had been forced and was no more. No doubt they'd been in search of the box of documents you'd carried with you, entrusted to you by Credo himself before your departure. Despite your concern and anger, you made no mention of that. What was the point, either way? Even if you'd gotten rid of the key on your way, of course it was only a matter of time. That was another reason you couldn't leave. The information they contained was sensitive, regarding the position of Fortuna troops and strategy against Mallet in the war raging on the East. If possible at all, you wanted to recover it.

On this occasion, you took the time to actually assess the appearance of the man speaking with you. He was much older than Aeneas, probably in his late forties— if his graying hair was of any indication— and there was a look of sympathy in his eyes as though he felt sorry for your situation. Still, he mostly avoided gazing at you for the sake of modesty. Your appearance at the moment was most undignified, with you wearing nothing more than that piece of fabric to provide some decorum.

"Indeed, your highness. My lord believed you would be… in a dire need of clothing."

Oh, did he _really_? So you guessed you had to be grateful for that. Aeneas might as well forget about it. You weren't thanking him just because he handed back something that was your property to begin with.

This man's manner of addressing you made you arch an eyebrow in slight surprise. You didn’t actually expect someone would acknowledge as such in this place, where no one seemed to have any shred of respect for you. His polite disposition wasn't anything like that of other men, and you weren't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. However, it intrigued you.

“How curious… to hear someone actually addressing me in a proper manner. To what do I owe this politeness?”

The man laughed softly, his head still bowed as he avoided your gaze. “Merely a wish to make your acquaintance, madam. Though I had hoped it would be under better circumstances.”

“You will have to excuse what I’m about to say, but I would have preferred to never make your acquaintance if that meant I would need to deal with the insufferable presence of your lord.”

"Ah, I see you and him aren't in the best terms possible.”

"Do you think it is feasible to be friends with your captor, the man responsible for the siege of these lands?”

“That, I cannot question. It only seems natural to oppose him and all he stands for. However, madam, you need to understand the situation at hand. It wouldn’t be advisable to have him as your enemy.”

“He became my enemy the moment his legions disembarked in these shores! He has kidnapped me and my ladies in waiting, humiliated and threatened me numerous times. If that was not enough, he's invaded this island— murdering left and right. How am I supposed to pardon these serious offenses?"

"Then allow me to apologize on his behalf, for the ill treatment you have received."

Taking a seat in Aeneas's armchair, you placed your hands in the armrests and held your head high. "Tell him that if he wishes some kind of compromise, he can start by withdrawing his armies from Fortuna. Then he can personally ask me to forgive him, and I may decide to do it one day. After all, I am the wronged party in this conflict."  
  
"That may be true, but I must remind you that you also have wounded his pride, and he doesn't take too well to those who defy him."  
  
Scoffing in disbelief, you narrowed your eyes at him. "So you mean to say that I should have remained silent and let him do as he wished?"  
  
"I'm only trying to give you advice, madam. In your vulnerable condition, it wouldn't be prudent to go against him. Don't fight a battle you cannot hope to win, or you may regret the consequences. Lord Aeneas is not a man that should be taken lightly."  
  
"He will be the one to regret this, once my family learns of what he's done."  
  
"In the meantime you should try to stay out of trouble. The welfare of your kingdom lies in your hands now, after all. I am sure you wouldn't sacrifice your own people for your pride."

He needed not remind you of that. You already knew you were between the devil and the deep blue sea. So far the prospect of Aeneas demanding for your hand in marriage didn't seem to be such a wild possibility, if what this man had so subtly hinted became true.

Despite his words, however, you didn't feel any ill intent or threat coming from him. If anything, it sounded as if he wanted you to tone down your attitude before Aeneas tore you to pieces.

"We shall provide some accommodations that you can use tonight. The floor is no place for a lady such as yourself." Thank goodness you wouldn't have to breathe the same air as Aeneas any longer. The thought was unsettling in ways you'd never experienced before, mainly because you didn't wish to entertain such a uncomfortable idea. "If you would like anything else, don't hesitate to let us know."

"Then I would like to be taken to my own pavillion now. This arrangement is most unbecoming. A woman of royal blood, sharing sleeping quarters with a man who isn't her husband is a scandalous matter. Surely you understand that my reputation, the honor of my family, and that of my betrothed, is at stake."

"I do understand it, of course, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."

His answer left you confused. "Why not? You've said that I would be provided with my own place to stay."

"I'm afraid you've misunderstood, madam. Lord Aeneas has explicitly ordered that you remain here, and we cannot go against his word."

_Despicable man!_ This was what he meant when he intended to keep you around. Why would you even believe otherwise?

You wanted to vent your frustrations upon this realization, but desisted from doing so and breathed deeply to placate yourself— before you said anything foolish.

"Very well. If that is what he's decided, then I guess I will have to deal with it."

"A wise choice, without a doubt."

"And who may you be, sir? You haven’t given me your name yet."

Whether it was an oversight on his part, or purely intentional, you couldn't tell but it would be best if you got to know more about this man. You weren't sure if you could convince him to help you in some way, but you wanted to keep your options open.

"They call me Dullahan, madam."

Dullahan, the folkloric creature harbinger of demise?

"And why is that?" You furrowed your brows. Was he some kind of mindless murderer, too?

Noticing the discomfort in your voice, he smiled faintly. "Some of us have... Special names, so to speak. However, despite what you may think, I have earned mine not because of some ominous deed I've done, but because of my apparent aversion to gold."

"Excuse me?"

"Surely you have realized lord Aeneas is an important man, and his reputation precedes him. Needless to say there are many who would want him dead, for various reasons."

"I take it he didn't make many friends throughout his life, did he? Not strange, considering the facts."

"The concept of friendship is relative, madam. The friends of today may become the enemies of tomorrow... and vice versa."

_This man_... What was he getting at?

"You were telling me why they gave you that name."

"In the past, some people have tried to bribe me with copious amounts of gold so that I would assassinate my lord. But I have remained faithful to him, and so he chose that name for me."

"If you've been asked to do that, then that means you must be close to him in some way. Otherwise, why bother?"

"That is correct. For many years, it has been my duty to safeguard his life, madam."

You'd seen this coming. If he was as loyal to Aeneas, as his reputation suggested, then he would be of no help. Most probably, he was trying to convince you to be less problematic to Aeneas— in which case, he might as well forget about it.

"Continue."

"I was accused of high treason in my country, for siding with the rightful ruler during a conspiracy to overthrow her. I lost my family and was stripped of my rank, my lands— my honor. I would have proudly lost my life, if not for the fact my queen had entrusted me a mission of utmost importance."

"And what mission was that?"

Dullahan paused for a moment, as though doubtful whether he should answer or not.  "Vengeance."

"That queen you speak of... what was her name?"

“It matters not, madam. It was a long time ago."

It didn't make any sense. How could he achieve vengeance if he didn't even wish to utter her name? Or he was deliberately hiding something. There was no way for you to know for sure, but you had the feeling something was off.

"You still haven't answered my question on why do you stay loyal to him, sir."

There was something that didn't add up here. If he was not in it for the gold, then what reason could it be?

"Oh, forgive me. This old man tends to blather a lot, sadly. But to offer insight into my reasons, I will say that lord Aeneas gave me a chance to prove my worth and regain the honor I had lost. I owe him my life and more."

Some sense of gratitude and admiration?

"Honestly, I find that hard to believe."

"He may have a rather infamous reputation among his enemies, but that's the charm of the tales about the Black Angel. I've had the honor to fight by his side, and I can tell you that many of the awful stories people tell about him are not true. But you know what they say; it is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both."

"He would even have his own men killed. What makes you think you're exempt from that?"

"I understand the reasons why he did it. Forgiving them would have undermined the efforts of those who are in his good graces, even more so when the others had failed in such an important task. Do not feel guilty about them, madam. It was their own ineptitude which led them to their end."

"I don't feel guilty about them. I only think your lord was too casual while ordering their execution."

"A leader is only as good as those who serve him. If the men around him are capable and faithful, he'll be considered wise and efficient. On the other hand, if he surrounds himself with incompetent people, it will be his mistake for having chosen them in the first place."

"What a terrible way of thinking," you mumbled, disgusted.

"I know it sounds cruel but, when you become queen someday, you will understand these words. Either way, I have taken up too much of your time and lord Aeneas has requested your presence. Dress appropriately and follow me, if you would."

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of what he'd told you. "What does he need me for?"

"I was not informed of the reason, just that I was to escort you, but I reckon it must be a matter that concerns you both."

In all honesty, you had no wish to see his face again but, if it couldn't be helped, then you would have to attend his call. The idea did not thrill you, at all.

"Fine. In that case, I would appreciate if you gave me the privacy to change into some clothes."

"Of course, madam. Let me know when you're ready," said Dullahan, before stepping outside— leaving you to wonder for how long would you have to endure this.

* * *

You chose a simple dress and slipped it on. There was no need for opulence on this occasion as that was more fit of a celebration... and there was nothing to celebrate here.

Admittedly, it was a little difficult making yourself presentable without any help but you knew you had to look your best. Not because you wanted to give him any good impression, of course. It was for your own sake, to remind the others that you still were a princess— a daughter of kings— and that you would hold your head high.

"I'm ready. Take me to him. I would like to be done with this quickly," you spoke as soon as you met face to face.

"I see you're still reticent to this situation, madam."

He must have heard the argument you had with Aeneas earlier. The white-haired man had been very displeased by the exchange though, honestly, you could care less about that.

"And what did you expect me to do? To accept his will without question? I will not consent to that!"

"You're only making this more difficult than it should be. He will find a way to get you to obey, believe me, and you may not like his drastic measures."

"Oh, he's going to torture me into submission... is that what you mean?"

"There are many ways of subduing someone, madam. Not all of them involve the kind of physical torments that you imagine."

You had no reply to that, and neither did you have any wish to engage in this conversation anymore.

Dullahan escorted you to a pavilion that seemed to serve as their headquarters. Upon arrival, you were told to wait outside while he spoke to one of the guards— announcing your arrival.

You tried to peek inside, through the flaps waving gently in the wind, and caught an unintended glimpse of Aeneas— sitting in a dark wooden chair, raised on a dais, and looking every bit as regal as though he'd been born a prince. He was reunited with what you surmised were his commanders. Seemingly studying the situation, they discussed the next course of action to take.

"It won't be long before they regroup their forces behind those walls," said one of the captains. “Though we have the advantage, we shouldn’t lower our guard.”

“A siege is a lengthy process, and we wouldn’t want to protract this conflict longer than necessary."

"It won't make any difference to our plans," you heard Aeneas say. "We will siege the city until it falls and that old man crawls through those gates, begging for mercy." Though barely noticeable, you couldn't help but notice the disgust he had for the man who reigned Fortuna. It wasn't a banal dislike, however, but more like a profound hatred he was trying to cover up. "We will burn their crops and kill their animals. I want all trade and military vessels intercepted, and that no word of what's happening leaves this island."

"What about the wells, your grace?"

"Do not touch them. We can recover from other losses once this war is over, but leave the bodies of water unsullied."

"But that way we would bring this war to a closure faster than intended."

"And we will. Though Fortuna may be a wealthy kingdom, gold alone will not mitigate her hunger. When that happens, people will get their hands on anything that has the possibility of being edible. Even if it is rotting meat."

"Hunger and pests will not reach the court. They surely will be well stocked with food and will not suffer of any illness."

Aeneas pondered for a second. "Maybe not them, but if Sanctus decides to keep warring against us, and disregards the suffering of his people, it will be his own troops that raise against him. There will be discord when they fight for scraps of food and when they desperately try to save their lives."

"It could work."

"Not could. It _will_ work," Aeneas sounded so certain of himself that one might have believed he'd already won.

"Why don't we use that secret passage to invade with our troops?"

So they knew about it all along? They must have been expecting you, then. It all began to make sense! Otherwise, how would they have possibly captured you? That means they'd been here long before and had the time to study the territory. But how could they know about the passage if someone hadn't informed them? Then surely there were traitors in your midst.

He shook his head. "Impossible. There is a chasm between the passage and the castle, connected by a retractable bridge. Most likely, it has been withdrawn by now so there's no way we can break in from that flank. We'll let them think that we have no idea about it. However, I want it guarded in case the rats start flushing out."

"Understood."

"Any news regarding the fleet that sailed after us?"

"Not yet, milord, but they shouldn't be too long."

"In that case, keep me posted."

"Milord," said the guard upon finding the opportunity to speak, and approached to whisper close to his ear.

After a moment, Aeneas nodded and turned to the men that were expectant of his words. "We shall continue this meeting at another moment. You may leave." As everyone began to disperse and walk away, he spoke again. "Commander Griffon, stay. There is something we must discuss."

You were led to his presence and, though Dullahan had advised you to be more conceding, you couldn't help but glare at Aeneas as he did the same to you.

"It was about time you showed up."

"Forgive us, milord, but the lady—"

"Actually, I was debating whether to come here or get some sleep." You smiled sardonically, unable to resist your urge to run your mouth once more.

This was foolishness, you knew it. From a young age, you'd always been told to be demure and graceful in front of others— to keep your thoughts to yourself when necessary, and to hide your animosity from your enemies. However, this man was unlike anyone you'd ever met before and you needed to speak up for yourself because no one else would.

"It would be better if you addressed lord Aeneas appropriately," you heard Dullahan whisper but, despite being aware it would have been the wisest choice, you still couldn't bear the thought of submission.

The expression of that odious white-haired man was impassive, as though he was expecting you to comply! Did he learn nothing?

"I have already told him he is not my lord."

Before you could even finish that statement, you heard Dullahan sigh wearily— as if he had seen this coming from the beginning.

"Still holding onto your asinine ways, I see."

You barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes at Aeneas's comment. "Why have you summoned me? Surely you have better things to do than waste your precious time with me."

"That's true. However, I consider it is time we make a few things clear."

"The situation is pretty clear to me. You do not need to explain any further, and you shall not convince me to change my mind."

"Is that what you think?" His blue eyes narrowed dangerously before he threw a glance to Dullahan.

The man merely nodded in understanding and retreated a few steps towards the entrance. It was at that moment that you took notice of a small commotion going on outside, which drew your attention and put you on the alert.

“Stop struggling already!” a voice grumbled, followed by a muffled cry of help that made your heart wrench in fear.

“Here she is, milord.” Dullahan stepped aside and made way for two newcomers that soon became the center of attention in that reunion.

They dragged a woman inside, struggling against the ropes binding her and crying despite the cloth gagging her mouth. She was handled rather carelessly and tossed next to you, a mess of dirt and tears.

When your eyes focused on the frail figure lying on the ground, your breath caught in your throat.

"Amelia!" you managed to utter at long last, as you rushed to her side and held her tear-stained face in your trembling hands. What had happened? She wasn’t supposed to be here! She should have escaped, she should be in a safe place away from the enemy!

Once you got rid of the hindrance in her mouth, she began to babble and sob nonstop— trying to find comfort in her distraught state. You did the best you could but, honestly, you were as terrified and confused as she was. The only difference was that you couldn’t afford to show your weakness in front of others.

“My lady, please, forgive me!" she sobbed uncontrollably as you cradled her in your chest.

"Calm down, Amelia. Tell me what happened."

“Clara… Clara is…” But before she could finish, the poor woman broke down in tears again.

It had started to become painfully obvious that Clara was nowhere to be seen, and you didn't have a good feeling about this.

"What happened to her? Tell me!" You urged Amelia to give you an answer but it was futile. She was too distressed to even listen to you, though her lack of words was a clear indication that your worst fear might have become true.

"You didn't think they would be able to escape, did you?" Aeneas's conceit and satisfaction were etched on his features and it only made you despise him more. The way he was so unfeeling before the suffering of others could only be described as infuriating and sickening.

"What happened to Clara?" you demanded in an outburst of anger, choosing a more aggressive stance in the face of threat. "What have you done to her?!"

"Commander." He proferred a sideway glance to the other man present, who had been silent until then.

Commander Griffon stood straight and cleared his throat, evidently uncomfortable by the whole scene. "During her escape, the woman had the misfortune of running into the low branch of a tree. At such speed, the collision proved to be fatal. It broke her neck, killing her instantly.”

" _Lies!_ ” you accused.“Your men killed her! She was just a child!"

It wasn't possible. No. It couldn't be. That poor girl was dead and it was all because of you!

"Do you see what you've caused? Instead of being obedient, you chose to do things your own way and these are the consequences." Aeneas gave you a pointed look, as you tried to assimilate these terrible news. “If you know what is good for you, you won't try a stunt like this ever again. Are we clear?"

You had no words to defy him anymore, for you knew it was true. It was your fault, it was your own imprudence and recklessness that led Clara to her death. What were you thinking when you sent her away, to her own doom?

If there was someone to blame for this tragedy, it had to be you.

Looking down to the fragile and trembling form lying in your arms, a knot formed in your throat and you wanted to cry at the top of your lungs.

"What should we do with this prisoner?" Sir Griffon asked.

"Give her to the men, or do what you see fit. I do not care."

Your eyes widened just by hearing that, and horror took over your heart as you shot a terrified look his way.

“No!” you screamed, with desperation.

If you allowed that to happen, Amelia would be raped and killed! She would have a fate even worse than that of Clara, and that was something you couldn’t bear to think about. How would you be able to live with yourself knowing that you’d been the cause of this terrible misfortune?

"Milord,” Dullahan began with a tone of voice that denoted concern. “With all due respect, I do not think that would be—”

“I have already spoken. Do you question my decision?”

“Of course not, milord.”

“Then take the princess back to my pavilion and watch her closely."

“Will do, milord.” Dullahan bowed and turned around, signaling the other guards to make sure that you obeyed— given your unwillingness to part from Amelia.

“No, I won’t leave!”

“How curious. You didn’t seem to be very eager to come here, yet now you wish to stay?”

Aeneas was playing with you again, mocking you because he had the upper hand. And even if you hated the look he was giving you, even if all you wanted was to never see his face again, you couldn't escape from him.

Mustering all the dignity you could, even though there would probably none left, you stood up with an air of determination and approached him with slow steps. Given your strange attitude, the guards were quick to draw their swords and point them at you, as if you would actually be capable of hurting their lord. But it was not enough to stop you, even when you knew that only a word from him would suffice to have you killed.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion when you stood in front of him and, then, you fell on your knees. Even he seemed surprised by your unexpected behavior and, though you felt as if you'd betrayed yourself by yielding to him, it was time to swallow your pride for once.

"Please, I beg you. You already have what you want. There is no need to cause her any more suffering. I admit I made a terrible mistake, but I will take full responsibility for that. It was my idea. Mine alone. Do not punish her for what I've done."

Humiliating yourself in front of others for a simple lady-in-waiting would seem like a very insane thing to do. If it had been for your own sake, perhaps you wouldn't have begged— but this was the life of a dear friend you were trying to save.

Amelia had been your trusty companion for many years and you had grown up together, nursed by the breasts of her mother. You had chosen her as your favorite playmate and, in doing so, forced her apart from her family— when your parents requested that the young girl be brought to court to be educated as the lady-in-waiting of a future queen. She'd always been the one to endure your endless tantrums and caprices, to always remain by your side and be your confidant. And even if you'd been ungrateful to her all these years, never once did she reproach you or asked for anything in return.

"Please, let me look after her."

Even though Aeneas's glare still lingered, in spite of your more docile attitude, somehow he seemed to be dubious by your change. Though you could tell that deep down he was pleased to have you so readily abandon your defying stance and beseech at his feet. Still, his silent command for the swords to be withdrawn gave you some hope that not everything was lost.

He averted his gaze and, with a sigh, finally provided you with an answer. “Very well, but let this be a warning and a lesson to you. Do not go against me or others will suffer for your lack of judgment. You may leave."

"Thank you." It was more difficult than you thought to utter those words, but for the sake of appeasing him it was best that you complied. Standing up, you turned to Amelia and watched as sir Griffon ordered for her ropes to be cut. "Come with me."

She allowed herself to be guided by you, knowing that in your presence she was safe— even though you were aware there wasn't much you could actively do to protect her. In the end, he was able to find a weakness in you despite all your efforts, and you hated him for that.

Dullahan was to escort you back and you obeyed without any objections. Your priority at the moment was Amelia's wellbeing, and that was all that mattered.

Commander Griffon stopped you before leaving. “Take her with you, madam. She needs someone to comfort her. I will send a physician to make sure she is in good health."

His concern for her surprised you, but you were too tired to make questions and merely nodded before walking out.

Dullahan followed you throughout your slow trip back, as a silent but ever present companion. Amelia was tired and weak from her exertions, and she had to rely on you for support. Despite the help he had offered, she refused to let someone else touch her and it was understandable. You were scared too, and the news of Clara's death had hit you hard. The poor girl had entered in your service recently, but that didn't mean you felt any less grief at her departure. If anything, her life had been your responsibility and you had failed miserably.

Now Amelia was all you had and, by the grace of the Almighty, she was still alive. To think she would have also died because of your stupidity!

"Now you understand what I meant, madam?"

Dullahan's question was a reminder of Aeneas's actions and though your loathing grew even stronger, you didn't let it be known.

"I do now. I do…”

* * *

Amelia was still in tears by the time you made it back, but you were determined to do your best to make her feel better.

Upon arrival, you noticed that some kind of divan had been placed for your personal use, most likely, as you would be staying with Aeneas. The idea still didn't sound very appealing to you, but you would deal with it later.

In the meantime, you led poor Amelia to a chair and had her sit down, before reaching for the water pitcher and pouring some in a metallic basin. After rummaging a little in your chest, you found some clean pieces of cloth and took one to dip in the water.

There was dirt and blood on her face from a few scratches, but no indication of any severe wounds and she didn't seem to be in great physical pain more than she was scared and shocked.

As you began to wipe one of her cheeks, she flinched away from your touch and shook her head. "No, my lady."

Her reaction confused and hurt you. "What's wrong?"

Realizing her mistake, she looked down and apologized for the outburst. "I appreciate your concern, but you shouldn't bother with someone as lowly as me."

_Lowly?_ Did she believe that was the impression you had of her?

“Dear Amelia… you’ve always looked after me.” You stroked her hair, offering a gentle smile. “Now, can you let me do it for you?"

Despite her hesitance, she eventually acquiesced with a shy nod and you continued with your aftercare. Once her face was done, you helped her wash the rest of her body and discarded the dress that she had worn.

"These clothes are ruined. I shall give you some of mine."

“There is no need to—”

“Nonsense! I’ve always had too many dresses to wear, so one less will not make any difference.”

Your cheery voice sounded forced, given your futile attempt to lighten up the mood. You didn’t want Amelia to linger on any more sad thoughts, even when you were trying to swallow the knot in your throat and hold back your emotions. The truth was, even if you were her lady… grief wasn’t a luxury you could afford at a moment like this. If she saw you in such a miserable state, then how could you reassure her and comfort her? A princess— a future queen— needed to be strong during hard times, for her people. She had to put on a smile even if she was breaking down on the inside.

And that was what you would do.

After she donned the chemise you had provided, you assisted her into wearing one of your dresses and tightened the laces on her gown just a little. It fit her perfectly, since she was about the same size as you.

"I still feel ashamed..." she said in a tiny voice, whilst you combed her hair and hummed a tune that her mother had taught you once.

"Why?"

“My lady shouldn’t be doing this—”

“I am doing this because it is my wish. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

You gave her some water and food, and though she had no appetite— could you really blame her for that?— she managed to eat a little if only to ease your concerns.

"My lady, if you would allow me to say something else…”

“Speak your mind, Amelia.”

“I am grateful for what you’ve done. I imagine it must not have been easy going to such lengths, kneeling in front of that man and begging for my sake. Still, you shouldn’t have risked your life for me."

With a sigh, you set the comb aside and held her shoulders— resting your cheek against the top of her head.

“Why shouldn't I have done it? You've been by my side since I was a child, and we've been raised together… almost like sisters. I know that if I had been in your place, you would have done the same for me." Her eyes were gleaming with tears as she looked up at you and smiled sadly, holding your hand in hers. Still, for all the emotion of the moment, you felt there was more to be said as you hadn’t made amends. "Forgive me the mean words I’ve said before," you mumbled rather ashamed, remembering not long ago you’d reprimanded her for her impertinence when she only worried about you. "I would never cast you away from my side."

"There is nothing to be forgiven, ma’am. Please, do not trouble yourself with such thoughts. But in a moment like this, it comforts me to know that… so thank you. I only hope I can stay by your side for many years to come, but if that’s not possible—”

You didn’t let her finish that sentence, for contemplating the idea was out of the question. It wasn’t your intention to let that happen.

“We will go home, together. I will make sure of that.”

* * *

After a while, a physician paid a visit as promised, accompanied by a young assistant.

It was a good thing you had cleaned her and made her presentable, for Amelia was not the kind of woman to let herself go. Her habits and appearance had always been impeccable and neat, as would be expected from a lady-in-waiting of the princess.

Thankfully, she hadn't suffered any major injuries during the chase and capture. She was only shocked at the death of her friend, and in need of some nourishment and rest— something you were advised to do, too, for the sake of your health. The old man treated you politely from the first moment, even seemed happy to make some small talk to lighten up the mood, and though you wished you could forget— if only for a moment— the difficulties you had to deal with, your mind was too preoccupied to actually relax.

Making sure Amelia lay and rested, despite her protests, you curled in the armchair with a blanket and tried to sleep. Even if you knew there were pressing matters to attend to, you wouldn’t be getting anywhere without some proper rest.

That was easier said than done, of course. It was impossible not to think about the terrible outcome of this war. No matter what side emerged victorious from any armed struggle, it was always the people that suffered the cruelty of warfare. Still, you also worried about Credo. He was supposed to be your future husband, after all, and without him there was no telling of what would happen to Fortuna. His uncle was too old to keep ruling for much longer, and there were no other known heirs. Considering the options available, either they would be forced to swear allegiance to Mallet or, most likely, be overthrown and someone else would be appointed for the position. And then what? Would they come after your kingdom, using you as their pawn?

Despite the odds, and even if it sounded insane, you hoped Credo and his uncle would surrender to spare many people any more misery. Maybe there could be a slight possibility that emperor Mundus would be lenient with them and allowed Credo to ascend as king, if they reached an agreement.

It was wishful thinking, of course. Why would they do that, anyways? Even so, you needed to hold onto something if only not to be overcome by grief.

But you would worry about such matters later. For now, you needed some rest if you intended to remain perceptive and somewhat rational during your captivity.

At some point, you had dozed off in your seat— into a fitful sleep that was plagued by nightmares of your kidnapping, the slaughter of the men that had tried to protect you without success, and the inevitable fall of the citadel.

Thick curtains of smoke rose into the blue skies and the winds blew relentlessly, sparkling some embers of the fire that had devoured everything in its path and carrying the stench of death. It was a most desolating scenery, paved by ashes and corpses as crows feasted over the flesh of the fallen. And in the midst of this calamity, there stood an ominous figure… a monster clad in black armor with horns.

A beast that destroyed everything it touched.

You woke up with a startle, struggling to recognize your surroundings at first— though it all eventually came to you once the mist of confusion began to clear from your mind. But as soon as you managed to recover some sense of lucidity, your ears picked up the distinct whisper of feminine voices and the shuffle of footsteps.

There were women here? But… you thought he’d said that there were none! He had threatened you with the possibility of being defiled by his men because of the lack of female company!

Of course he would lie to you. What else could you expect from him?

They seemed to be a group of maids under his service, going by their simple clothing and the fact that they were doing domestic labor for a man of high rank. Namely preparing some of his clothes, tidying up, and filling up a well polished tub with hot water, adding mineral salts and extracts.

When these women noticed you had woken up, they hushed and avoided looking at you— pretending you didn’t even exist. It was something that bothered you a little, but if you were to be honest, you weren’t really in the mood to exchange pleasantries either.

The flames of several candles provided light to what would have been an otherwise dark place, and it wasn’t hard to guess that night had already fallen. It was a little chilly, but nothing that a few skins couldn’t fix so you didn’t have to worry in that regard.

The racket had roused Amelia, too, and upon seeing you had company she gave you a confused look. “My lady?”

With a shrug, you conveyed your ignorance about what was going on but if there was something you were certain was that these preparations were for neither you nor her. At this point, you didn’t want to think about it.

Just as these thoughts crossed your mind, you heard voices outside and one of them sounded awfully familiar. You weren’t mistaken with your presumptions when Aeneas walked in, a frown on his brows as he searched around and met your guarded gaze before his eyes swept over Amelia in vexation. It was evident that he wasn’t pleased by her presence, even when he had agreed to let you take care of her but you wouldn’t let his mean spirit deter you from your purpose.

“Milord, your bath is ready,” one of the servants informed, keeping her eyes downcast at all times and using a demure attitude when regarding him.

So this was what he was talking about when he said you didn’t act like a woman attending her superiors. Perhaps you should have offered a more convincing act, but it was too late for regrets now.

Without even a thanks for their efforts, Aeneas ordered them to take their leave and they obeyed at once. Taking this as your cue to do the same, you held Amelia’s arm and discreetly gestured for her to accompany you outside. Why would you even want to stay while this man had a bath? Sleeping in the same enclosed space was one thing, but… to actually be present at a moment where privacy should be expected and respected was unthinkable. However, you still couldn’t disregard the reason why he made you his captive. It wasn’t a notion you wished to entertain but the possibility was real.

Better not to bring that to his attention. Better to just play dumb and walk away, unnoticed. If anyone tried to intimidate you or lay a finger on you and Amelia, then you would use Aeneas as a safeguard. Since he seemed to think you were his property and should obey him, then you would take advantage of it. Who in their right mind would dare damage his belongings?

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?”

_Oh, no_ … he really meant to make you stay. Granted, maybe not for the reasons you’d been fearing— after all, he couldn’t let you escape again— but this was the prelude to a situation that you wouldn’t be able to handle, and he knew it. Without a doubt he did, and he would exploit it.

"To breathe in some fresh air. Is it not obvious?” Despite the sarcastic and unruffled tone of your voice, deep down you desperately tried to act as though you were unaffected.

But he seemed to noticed the change in your demeanor, almost right away. Aeneas knew you were trying to avoid the inappropriate moment that would follow, yet he had no qualms in pushing you to your limits— seeking to humiliate you in all imaginable forms. Oh, you could already see that glint of amusement in his eyes as he stepped closer, his figure considerably towering over yours.

“Leave us. Your lady won’t require your services for the rest of the day.”

Amelia gasped at his statement, staring at you with a shocked expression, whilst you gritted your teeth in anger and grasped her forearm.

“That is not for you to decide. Amelia stays with me!”

“You’re too stubborn for my liking, woman.”

_Stubborn?_ He dared called you that when he was the one being difficult?

“She's my lady-in-waiting and I will not part from her.”

"It is not my concern."

“It is mine!"

"Ma'am, please, this is all unnecessary. Do not argue because of me.” She sounded distressed by the conflict that had sparked because of her, but you couldn't simply leave her to her own devices.

"You'll stay with me and end of the story. I won't let you in the hands of those animals!"

"You shouldn't worry about me, I told you. I'll leave now. It is for the best.”

“Where can you possibly be safe if not with me?”

"Sir Griffon has kindly offered me protection, so I will seek him out.”

You couldn't believe what she'd said. "Protection? When did this happen?”

“While you were speaking to the physician, his assistant relied a message to me.”

Why would he do that? Why would sir Griffon show interest in her if not because he had some questionable motives? In these circumstances, it was obvious what he wanted from her and you couldn't be at peace knowing that she would be staying alone with him!

“And do you really intend to go to him?”

“Yes, ma'am.” She nodded, and all you could do was shake your head in disbelief

"You cannot be serious... You cannot!"

"What other choice do I have? I would rather it be just one man, than..." her voice trailed off, as she looked down in shame— aware that if she refused him, she would be fair game to other men that tried to hurt her. “You need not concern yourself with me. I promise I will be fine.”

“But—”

"Leave at once." Aeneas was losing his patience by the moment, making Amelia jump in fear at his commanding attitude.

"Yes. My apologies, your grace." With a curtsy, she was ready to take her leave but you tried to stop her.

"Amelia, don't. Please, stay with me," you pleaded under your breath, trying to hold onto her arm, to no avail.

“Forgive me, my lady." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and you couldn't help but feel your heart breaking when she turned away.

As the skirt of her dress slipped from your fingers, you knew you were alone in this. You couldn't blame her for her actions, however. Amelia couldn't disobey his order— it would be madness— and neither could you. Still, you were distraught at the idea she would be spending the night with that man. After all, you'd been supposed to look after her and ensure she had a good marriage with a noble worthy of your trust.

Oh, it seemed she had been cursed when her path crossed with yours.

“Wait!” you cried out, trying to follow her.

“Do not even think about it." As soon as Aeneas had spoken, the guards blocked your way with their halberds preventing you from taking another step.

"Out of my way..." you said through gritted teeth, but they merely ignored your demands. They didn't even look at you and stood in place as though they were mere statues. This was most frustrating, and it didn’t help matters at all that he was intentionally trying to get a reaction from you. He was doing all this for the sake of his twisted pleasure, that much you could tell. “Tell them to let me go!”

“And why should I do that?”

“Why? How dare you ask me that, you insuf—?!”

It proved to be a bad idea to turn around at that very moment, when he had begun to undress— without a care for your presence, it should be noted. Before you knew it, his torso had been bared and he was not stopping there. Fuming with embarrassment and anger, you gritted your teeth and swiftly looked away— unable to witness such a shameless display of indecorum. This man behaved like a barbarian, honestly! Exposing his body in front of a young maiden, no less.

When you heard the soft splash of the water as he stepped inside, you allowed yourself to relax if only a little. This didn't mean you were comfortable with the idea of an unclothed man very close to you. Never before had you been in such a compromising situation and, though you’d suspected this much, nothing could have prepared you for this.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as though he were oblivious to the reason why you were so flustered. But you knew better than to be fooled by his act. Aeneas knew very well that this was making you uncomfortable, yet he kept pushing you— knowing that you were still an unmarried woman without any sort of experience regarding men. No wonder he would take advantage of that situation to leave you in a vulnerable position.

Glaring at him over your shoulder, you huffed in disgust at the stupid question he had made. “Well, if you must wonder what's wrong… perhaps, you’re a little slow in the head.”

“Oh, is it the purported impropriety of my actions that brings you so much unease? My apologies, I keep forgetting that women of your kind are educated with puritanical principles and believe themselves to be morally superior to the rest.”

“And I suppose I would do well in assuming that you were raised like a brute, taught to be nothing more than a murderer who exerts violence upon others to get what he wants. How does that feel like?”

“A brute you say I am, yet I have been too lenient with your insolent behavior so far.”

“Only because I can be of use to you.”

“Is that not good enough?” His reply was most casual, as he reclined his head and sighed. “Now be obedient and come closer.”

"No!" was all you managed to say, almost by instinct, and it was a word that did not please him— of course it wouldn't, you should have known. Again, his eyes had narrowed and there was that light scrunch of his nose accompanied by pursed lips.

"I won't say it again, woman.”

What did he want? No, on second thought… you didn’t want to know.

“Forget it. I’m not going anywhere near you in that state!”

“Then, perhaps, would you like me to reconsider my decision concerning your lady-in-waiting?”

He even dared to use blackmail on you. _Scoundrel…_

“This issue is between you and I, so leave her out of this.”

“But why? This is the way warfare works, princess. If you're not ready to face your enemy, and you do not know his weaknesses, then it would better not to provoke him.”

So in other words, he was saying that if you had no leverage against him then you shouldn't even try to resist. Again, and you should have hated to admit it, he was right…

How could you even think you would get him to answer your demands if you had not even a shred of power over him? You simply couldn't.

“Now come here, and help me bathe.”

Your eyes widened at what he had asked from you and, though you wondered if you'd misheard, somehow you doubted it given his annoyed expression.

How could you escape now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, yes, Vergil... is a jerk xDD that's nothing new :v 
> 
> Well, I added a few OCs (if we can call them that?). Actually, Dullahan is based on the name of a regular enemy in DMC3, and... Griffon, yes, you guessed it :D
> 
> I'm sure people have noticed the mention of some Machiavellian principles? I guess the mindset fits Vergil, that's all xD 
> 
> All in all, hope you enjoyed it :D please, let me know your thoughts in the comments. I would love to read them! Thank you! ♥♥♥


	4. iv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for taking so long to update this fic ;A;
> 
> My SD card died a few months ago, and I lost _all_ of the drafts for this story. I tried to salvage what I could, but I practically had to rewrite this chapter from scratch. O Fortuna probably won't be what I originally intended but, hopefully, I can create something similar to what I had in mind... 
> 
> I would like to thank everyone for the support and encouragement. A special shout-out to **ice_coffin** , **lyon5** , **BreezeInMonochromeNight** , **LuvieMM** for their kind words. Thanks to **Lucía** for always putting up with me and reading my drafts, and thanks to all the readers for the love they give me. You’re the ones who keep me going ;u;
> 
> Dedicated to **AngelJasiel**. Go check out her gallery at **angeljasiel.deviantart.com**. She has amazing works of DMC, and Naruto/Legend of Zelda :D
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warning:** Unbetaed work. English is not my first language. Sexual situations. Unhealthy relationships. Please, if you’re uncomfortable with such topics, do not read any further.

**Chapter IV**

What were you supposed to do now?

He had you right where he wanted you, this despicable man! No doubt his intention was to humiliate you and, though you wanted to fight back, you knew that it would be dangerous to defy him when Amelia’s wellbeing was at stake. Aeneas had threatened to rethink his decision regarding her fate, and you couldn’t take such risks.

If this was for her sake, then you would concede for the time being.

Biting your tongue, you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders— turning to face him with a glare. But before you could even decide what to do, you were taken aback by a sight you didn't expect to find (maybe you did, but your mind still couldn't process the thought). Though his most private body parts were concealed beneath the water, it was obvious that he was completely nude. This was quite a shock to you, considering that you’d never been in such intimate terms with any male, and your experience with them was about nonexistent. However, despite your lack of understanding about certain topics, you knew very well that this wasn’t a very appropriate thing to do.

You had to tread carefully with this man. He was a dangerous beast, and it was evident that his intentions were far from decent. Being taken to his bed was something you needed to avoid at all costs— but the outlook wasn't so good.

“Is there a problem?” His arms rested on the edges of the tub as he watched you intently, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Oh, he was having so much fun with you, was he not? Why else would he want to keep you around? The bastard…

“No,” you said through gritted teeth, approaching him with firm steps. The sooner you were done with this, the better for you.

“Bring that chair over here and take a seat.” He nodded to said object, expecting you to comply without opposition.

In fact, you did— as surprising as that sounded— thankful for the excuse he gave you to focus your attention elsewhere, and not him. This was very embarrassing, to say the least. Of course, you would never let him notice how flustered this made you feel. Besides, you were so angry at the moment that your indignation did a good job at covering up your discomfort and fear.

“Make haste, woman. I don’t have all day.”

His impatient remark made you bristle on the inside but, even if it was difficult to keep your mouth shut, you managed not to turn this into another heated argument.

If only you could give him a piece of your mind…

As you brought the chair over, you took notice of the washing elements laid out in a wooden table next to the tub. Well, now you knew that he was being serious about you helping him bathe— but what else did you expect? The idea was unnerving, though you made no comments on it. There was no actual way that you could refuse, at any rate.

It would not be far-fetched to imagine that one (or a few) of those women that had just left usually assisted him in his bath. If that was the case, then you pitied them. To be in the presence of such an abhorrent man, such as him, must have been an ordeal in itself— given his insufferable attitude around others. He thought himself to be so high and mighty, it was sickening.

No doubt he had his reasons. Being the right hand of the emperor, and a fearsome warrior, all that power and fame must have gone to his head— but that didn’t make it any less unbearable.

Taking a seat, your nose caught the scent of various fragrant herbs and extracts that had been carefully prepared and mixed for his use. They’d already been poured into the hot water, and he seemed to be enjoying his aromatic bath. Though you had a strong suspicion that he was even more delighted in having you at his beck and call.

What should you do now? It was pretty obvious what he wanted from you, of course, but thinking about touching his body just… didn’t set well with you. He was not your husband, so this was all too inappropriate— considering you were a princess, promised in marriage to someone else no less! Needless to say, you’d never seen the bare body of a grown man before and this indecorous display was an obscenity. You'd been taught that nudity was a bad thing, impure and lustful. Even between spouses, such lascivious behaviors happened to be discouraged during intercourse, as they were considered unchaste.

As it was, you didn’t even know how to feel about the whole consummation of your marriage to Credo, though you were willing to reach an understanding with him. It was a necessity, something that had to be done if you were to give him heirs. The intimacy of the monarchs wasn’t only a personal matter between a man and a woman united in matrimony. It was an affair of state that concerned the future of the kingdom and crown.

By the heavens, what should you do? You didn't want to give him the impression that he intimidated you, or else Aeneas would work this to his advantage! Now that was something you wouldn’t allow.

Spotting a greenish bar of what you identified as soap, you sighed and reached for it. Holding the item in your hand, you noticed that it was a fine soap from the East, made with olive and laurel oils— its aromatic scent and elaborate decorative stamp were hard to miss.

“Well?” he mumbled impatiently over his shoulder, exasperated by your tardiness to comply.

Narrowing your eyes, you gritted your teeth and snatched the bathing sponge from the table. It was best to get this done as soon as possible, so you wouldn’t give him the opportunity to keep making a fool of yourself.

Without a word, you began to lather the sponge and tried to scrub one of his arms but he stopped you midway. “Wash my hair first.”

It was clear he wanted to make it a point that you had to obey him now. Aeneas sounded so smug at the chance of bossing you around that you found it hard to believe you could make it through this, without running your mouth. However, for the sake of Amelia and yours, you had to endure no matter what.

So you did as he ordered, albeit reluctantly.

After pouring water on his head, his hair adopted a much different appearance as it came down and stuck to his forehead and eyes. This gave him more of a comical appearance than you’d expected, maybe even childish in a way. But this boyish impression disappeared as soon as he brushed a hand against his hair and slicked it back, giving you an irritated look whilst he wiped the water off his face.

“What?” you inquired rather vexed, in spite of his menacing demeanor. The fact that he had forced you to do his bidding didn’t mean that you would readily accept to be his obliging servant.

Aeneas only grumbled under his breath but otherwise made no comment, and you decided to focus on the task at hand— that being washing his hair. As you lathered and scrubbed his silver locks, you tentatively entertained the idea of pushing his head beneath the water until he drowned. That was, ignoring the fact it was unlikely you could overpower him in any circumstances and so many other factors.

Diverting your gaze just a little, you couldn’t help but notice that his armor and weapons had been returned to him and they were on display on the armor stand. The coat of red blood you’d seen earlier, when you first met him, had been removed and the dark metal had a soft sheen in the light of the candles.

However, that horrid helmet with horns, which made him look like a monster in the battlefield, was a scary addition that reminded you who you were dealing with. In this state of affairs, you shouldn’t even be contemplating on bringing harm upon him. No matter how tempting it would be to give him a taste of his own medicine.

It made you wonder if you would be capable of taking someone's life. Even one as hateful as he. You’d criticized his ruthless ways with his enemies, and his lack of mercy for them. If you were to do the same thing, then you would be no better than him.

There was more hot water in a few buckets, which you assumed you should use to rinse the froth from his hair before applying herbal extracts to perfume and soften his locks. Not much else was said, but you could tell that he was satisfied with this turn of events. Surely, he must have been very pleased with your apparent submission now that he'd found a weakness to exploit.

Even then, you couldn't be absolutely certain that Amelia would be safe at the hands of that stranger. The night was long and you feared that she would spent it in his company, alone. If only there was more you could do for her…

“What will that man do to her?” you wondered aloud.

Unfortunately, Aeneas heard you and he didn't miss the opportunity to unnerve you. “Are you afraid of what will happen to your lady-in-waiting, princess?”

With a none too flattering look sent his way, you huffed. “Well, _you_ tell me. Are my concerns about her wellbeing unfounded?"

He took his sweet time to reply, as though relishing in your uncertainty.

“I suppose your lady-in-waiting should be fine, so long as she doesn't get on his bad side.” That didn't actually put you at ease. For all that you knew, it meant that Amelia would be ‘fine’ as long as she did what she was told and gave that man what he wanted. “However, it is not commander Griffon you should be concerned about. Remember that.”

Oh, Aeneas seemed to be fond of threatening people left and right. At least he was trying to be more subtle about it, this time.

Once you were done with his hair, you figured you were expected to wash the rest of his body. It was something you began to dread when you realized that, most likely, you would have to see and touch more than you could handle. Being in his presence while he bathed was scandalous enough, but this was more than you would be able to handle.

However, you couldn’t just outright refuse. It was better to let him think that he had won, for the time being, before setting limits to his questionable advances— to show that you weren’t reluctant to cooperate for petty reasons. Still, you were at a serious disadvantage and you needed to keep that in mind.

“Have you nothing witty to say?” he mocked, to your endless exasperation.

“I'm merely not interested in having an argument right now,” you retorted, in an attempt to ignore him.

But he had to keep prodding. “Good to see you're a fast learner. Have you finally understood that your pointless defiance will get you nowhere?”

Well, to be fair, it felt more like this pointless conversation would get you nowhere.

Grabbing the sponge, you soaked it in water and rubbed it against one of his shoulders. Droplets of water slid down his pale skin, and you noticed how firm his body was. The solid muscles of his back and arms tensed, and stretched, with every move he made. Various scars from old battles marred his skin, as well— an odd evidence that he was just a man, after all, and not this immortal demon that his enemies believed him to be.

He was attractive. Any woman capable of seeing that would have agreed that his physical appearance was nothing short of fascinating. Without a doubt, he was the portrait of a seducer— seeking to pervert young maidens and lead them astray from the path of virtue. Who knew what kind of unspeakable things he'd done to these women.

It was something you didn’t want to imagine.

Holding the bathing sponge in your hand, you rubbed it against his arm vigorously— eliciting an uncomfortable hiss from him at the intentional roughness of your treatment. Of course you needed to make this unpleasant for him, too. It wasn’t necessarily your intention, but you couldn’t help it. If he was willing to put you through this, then he would have to endure your less-than-complacent company.

His hand shot to your wrist, startling you as you muffled a gasp.

“Be more careful,” he admonished, throwing a glare your way whilst you feigned obliviousness at his complaints. This seemed to irritate him even more, as he grumbled, “is there anything you can do right, woman?”

With a roll of your eyes, you sighed. “Stop being such a baby.”

The words came out before you could stop them. Even if you’d promised yourself not to confront him directly, you still weren’t careful enough not to let your tongue loose. You wanted to smack yourself in the face for being such a fool.

“What did you say?” His voice dropped an octave as he stared icily at you out of the corner of his eye. Somehow, he seemed to have been deeply offended by your words and that was to be expected. You couldn't imagine he would be very amused with your comment, and neither did you feel smug about it.

What would your mother say? She would be disappointed at your inability to command your own emotions and mask your thoughts, that was for sure.

Well, there was no use in denying what you’d done. That would only show that you were daunted by him, which… wouldn’t be exactly a lie. In all honesty, you were quite scared of this man— even if you’d managed to hide it well, pretending that you did not fear him.  But this display of courage that you had carefully constructed, these walls of deceit that you had built around you, were only your belligerent attempt to retain some dignity and sanity.

Even with the reminder of the threat he posed to you, falling into a pit of despair was out of the question.

Looking right into his eyes, you found them staring coldly at you— as if daring you to challenge him. If he thought you would back down and admit defeat, then he had another thing coming.

“I said that you’re overreacting and whining like a child. Are you going to deny that?”

Actually, you never thought that the infamous Black Angel would make a fuss over something so trivial. Surely, you were not strong enough to cause any serious discomfort and he was only playing mind games with you. He seemed to have a penchant for those.

With an arched eyebrow, Aeneas hummed absent-mindedly and looked away. There seemed to be the slightest hint of a smile in his lips, but it was evident he was trying not to be too obvious about it.

“No one has ever dared say that to my face before.”

At least, he acknowledged that there were people who weren’t very fond of him. However, no one would be insane enough to risk his wrath and endanger their lives by being so open with their thoughts. Apparently, you were the only one. You had to count yourself very lucky that you’d made it this far, considering who he was and what he was capable of.

“Well, they say there is always a first time for everything,” you said, trying to appear nonchalant and calm.

Again, he stared at you out of the corner of his eye. For the first time, you took notice of the five-o’clock shadow on his face. It was barely dark, mostly a pale growth of hair on his chin and cheeks.

“You're too impertinent, woman. What manner of upbringing did they give you?”

_Impertinent?_ That was laughable, coming from someone who had been nothing but boorish towards you.

“The kind of which has taught me to be respectful of those who treat me the same way,” you said with a glare.

“Hn, well, I see it has failed. Perhaps I should take some time out of my day to discipline you, then.”

“Would you dare raise your hand against me?”

Why did you feel the need to ask if he would do it? He had your men killed, leaving no survivors that would tell Credo what happened to you. Clara was dead too and, though you were to blame for her demise, there was no denying that this man was the root of all these misfortunes. He had already pointed a blade at your throat, threatened you multiple times, so you didn't think he was past any aggression.

“There are other ways to educate an unruly woman such as yourself.”

“Oh, well, then _enlighten_ me by all means.”

“If I told you, it would take away all the amusement of keeping you in suspense.”

Aeneas didn't miss a chance to remind you that you were at his mercy. He had even told you that if you were too much of a hassle, he would probably consider you weren't worth his efforts. But what exactly were you supposed to do? Submit to his demands and avoid any more future conflicts? Yes, that would be the sensible course of action, but you couldn't just surrender and let him walk all over you. Even if you had to, it was easier said than done.

“You may be in a position to do as you see fit, but it won't matter in the end. Respect is earned, not imposed.”

“And do you speak from experience, princess?” he sneered. “Have you wondered if you truly earned the respect of your subjects, or are they forced to bow to you merely because you’re of royal blood?”

“Haven't you wondered the same thing? Do these men have genuine respect, or is it only their fear that keeps them loyal to you? Moreover, do they actually fear you, or do they fear the Black Angel— the persona you'd created to terrorize others without remorse?”

Those words had him frowning ever so slightly, and his hands balled into fists as he pursed his lips. It seemed like you had touched a nerve, even though he did a good job at keeping his composure— an ability he'd apparently mastered quite well.

Seeing as he remained taciturn at your words, you couldn't help but try another way to get under his skin— if only because he'd enjoyed antagonizing and making fun of you, ever since you'd been brought to this place. The fact that he decided to keep you for his own amusement was enough to make your blood boil. Who did he think he was? What did he take you for?

If only you could hurt him as much as he hurt you.

“Are you hiding from something? What kind of insecurity compels you to use that mask? " you continued, embittered at his remarks. “Or are you afraid your foes won't take you seriously in the battlefield with that face, _pretty boy_?”

That wasn’t a compliment, of course. Regardless if he actually was good-looking, the idea that you could be attracted to him was sickening. But there was no denying that he truly stood out like a sore thumb amid other men. Oh, during that reunion you had the chance to see that for yourself. And those glances the women in his service stole from him... no doubt they were taken with his angelic visage. Though you could understand why, you also couldn't imagine being enamored of such a horrible man.

It was apparent that he was accustomed to taking good care of his appearance. His pale hair was perfectly trimmed to his nape, his nails carefully manicured, his skin clear from impurities, and it seemed he preferred going clean-shaven rather than sporting a beard like other men did. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. Even you had to admit that you paid a great deal of attention to your looks, if only because you always had to be impeccable in your bearing. However, more than concern for the impression he gave to others, his was more of a borderline narcissist obsession. Seeing the way he carried himself with such pretensions and how he thought so highly of himself, above everyone else, one could assume that, indeed, he was rather vain.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you were harshly pulled forward, eliciting a tiny squeal from your lips.

It didn't take you long to realize that he was holding the front of your dress, his hand balling the fabric as you met the incensed look in his eyes. Oh, did he find your own words offensive? Well, they weren’t even a tiny fraction of what he deserved.

His move had been sudden and swift, as it would be expected from someone who's famed to be a proficient warrior. His breathing was heavy against your face and your heart was beating so hard you thought it would carve a hole in your chest. Still, you couldn't let him know you were terrified of the beast hiding inside of him. This was a dangerous game you'd been forced to play, and you wouldn't surrender. You wouldn't show him weakness, even if you were at a disadvantage— even if he threatened to kill or do the most vile things to you.

You didn't flinch or budge, in spite of your apprehension. Those burning blue eyes were still fixed on you, their intensity never waning. No matter what, you didn't want to look away— not because they were particularly mesmerizing or pleasing to look at, even though they might have been in other circumstances. It was because you couldn't bring yourself to admit defeat.

Instead of diverting your gaze, you glared back and engaged in a silent clash with him. He didn't like it when you ran your mouth and antagonized him, rather than enduring his intimidation in comfortable silence? Too bad, but you didn't appreciate his disrespect and shameless arrogance either.

“I've already told you; do not test my patience, woman.”

“You would do well in not testing mine, then.”

“How dare you speak to me like that?”

With a scowl, you snarled. “Do you really believe my hostility is undeserved? Maybe you should reconsider your actions and realize that they have consequences.”

Somehow, this man brought out the worst of you. There were moments when you couldn’t think clearly and, taking into account who you had to deal with, that wasn’t something you could afford to do. But the reality was that he had this unnatural ability of infuriating you, and you you found it hard to tolerate him.

“Then I’m sure you have already considered the consequences for your misconduct,” he whispered, letting go of your dress before his fingers slowly wrapped around your neck. “Have you not, princess?”

The pressure in your throat began to increase little by little, though not enough to deprive you from air. However, his message was clear.

“Do you truly expect me to beg for my life?” you rasped, feeling the anger boil in your blood as you stared into his blue eyes with contempt.

In all honesty, you never expected to make it this far but it would be a lie to say that you didn't care about dying. Of course the idea of losing your life was something you never thought you'd have to deal with, at your age— but maybe the uncertainty of what happened after death was even more terrifying. Where would your soul go after your demise? Heaven? Hell? What would happen to Amelia when you were gone? What would happen to your people, to your family…?

Despite all these concerns, you couldn't bring yourself to plead for leniency. What a foolish thing to do, you thought. Dying because of your pride… there was no doubt where you would end up in the afterlife.

However, he couldn’t kill you. No matter what he said, you still believed that he found you more useful alive. This was nothing more than another attempt at tormenting you with his cruel manipulations. As it was, you had become his pastime.

The anger in his features faded and he gave you a conceited look, whilst arching an eyebrow. “I don’t expect you to do it, but I find it amusing to watch you struggle with fear.”

“Oh, so you're trying to prove that you can be fearsome, after all?”

For a moment, you felt the pressure in your neck tighten as he hummed his disinterested acknowledgment. “I do not need to prove anything to you."

“Maybe intimidating a defenseless woman, who clearly cannot put any resistance, makes you feel all mighty.”

“Are you a delicate little flower when it is convenient?”

“I would hardly call any of this convenient for me, any more than it is for you.”

“It must be quite depressing for you, princess. You wish to speak as equals, yet you do not possess the grounds to oppose me.”

“Only because you have made sure that I'm powerless to do so, through questionable means.”

“I only did what needed to be done."

“Does that include the slaughtering of dozens of innocent people? I suppose it was imperative that you killed them.”

“If it serves the purpose…”

He said that without any hint of remorse, not even a shred of regret in his face.

His words were poison and they sickened you. However, coming from him, it shouldn't have been surprising. You should have known better than to expect compassion from a man like him— a warlord who served a belligerent emperor, obsessed with conquering the world.

“Why so silent, princess?"

What could you answer to that? No amount of reasoning would change his mind. Words were of no use here, so why bother with him?

“If you have no intention to kill me, let me go,” you grumbled, trying to bring the tension to an end.

Aeneas furrowed his brow. “That's not for you to decide—”

“I'm tired,” you cut him off, “and I would like to call it a night.”

It was true. You were exhausted and you didn't have the chance to rest properly earlier, being haunted by nightmares and what not.

“And why should I care?”

Of course you weren't expecting him to care! You only wanted him to leave you alone to mourn and let your anger out, but that seemed to be too much to ask.

“Haven't you had enough of tormenting me for one day? What else do you want from me?!”

This was becoming unbearable and you were already losing your nerve. It was probably what he wanted, in the first place.

His grip loosened but he still didn't release you.

But before you could even struggle out of his hand, you came to the odd realization that he'd fallen silent as he brought your face closer to his. It was even more confusing when his half-lidded gaze fell on your lips. That wouldn't have been reason to worry on its own, but the sensation of his cool thumb stroking your jugular wasn't something you could actively ignore— even if you wanted to. Much any less when his hand let go of your neck and began to slither to your cheek, brushing aside your hair to reveal one of your quivering shoulders.

Shivers ran down your back, and your breathing grew more strained in your bewilderment. In spite of your distrust and your knowledge of what he intended to do, you hadn't been prepared for his strange behavior. It scared you but at the same time…  there was something else— something you didn’t dare think about. Panic and fear seemed to be affecting your thinking process, and you didn’t want to entertain certain ideas that would endanger your well-being.

Try as you might, you couldn't do anything to stop him. It was as if he'd paralyzed you, as if your body no longer obeyed your command. What kind of sorcery was this? Maybe he was a demon, after all… a supernatural being, as the tales said.

Aeneas appeared to be pleased to see that you weren't resisting, and that your facade of unyielding bravery was beginning to crumble.

On your part, you were still trying to comprehend what was going on. You'd never been through this before! Credo had been affectionate on occasion, but his gestures with you had always been chaste. He'd never had ulterior motives behind his sparse displays of affection, or none that you could mistake for something immoral at least.

There was no doubt the intentions of this man were lewd. His touch made you feel dirty and violated, and the way he eyed you, as though you were a harlot— a woman he could use for his own pleasure— was most disturbing.

It was when he began to slide down the hem of your dress that you finally reacted. Eyes wide, you pulled his hand away, as if it had burned your skin, and  shook your head frantically— unable to come up with any words to voice your outrage. How dared he touch you without your permission?

Of course, you had a good idea of where this was going and what he wanted. You might have been inexperienced in that regard, but you weren’t an idiot.

However, if you thought you would get away from him so easily, well… he was having none of that. Unwilling to give you any rest, his hand took a firm hold of your chin and you were forced to look into his blistering gaze once again.

"Let me go. _Now_ ," you sizzled, gripping his forearm.

“Or what will you do?” he spat coldly, his features set into an unreadable expression. If it weren't for those blue eyes, there would be no trace of emotion in his face whatsoever.

He refused to leave you alone, and you couldn't stand this disrespectful treatment anymore.

_Slap!_

The sharp smack made your ears ring and, before long, your hand throbbed with burning pain.

Well, if he didn’t have any good reason to kill you… now you'd made sure of giving him one.

Aeneas held his reddening cheek, seemingly quite shocked by your unexpected aggression. You'd never meant to, but he'd left you no choice.

His expression turned somber, as though he was trying to come to terms with what you'd done. Probably no woman had dared to raise her hand against him. Who would be insane enough to?! Still, what he did was wrong and you had to stop him, any way. Getting his disgusting hands all over you, undressing you… touching you intimately. No, that was something you could not allow to happen!

As you fixed your clothes, and stood up with shaken breath, you heard him chuckle under his breath— as if this had all been an amusing game to him. Even if you wanted to argue, scream at him what a despicable man he was, you couldn’t find any words. More importantly, you were exhausted from all these mind games. In all honesty, at this point you didn’t care who won or lost. You didn't even care if he decided to have you executed. Maybe it would have been better if he did but you knew he had other plans for you, though he still could give you a hard time— which he was.

“How curious…”

_Curious?_ Was that all he had to say?

“What are you talking about?” you asked, more confused at his comment than scared of reprisal.

“I've had the most bloodthirsty and vicious men under my command but, in my presence, they’re nothing more than fearful kittens.”

“What is your point?”

“You don't seem to be aware of the danger I pose.”

“I am _well_ aware of that," you snapped.

“And yet you give me that irate look, defy me relentlessly; you dared hit me…”

“I only did it in self-defense. You wouldn't let go of me, so I had no other choice. Perhaps you should keep your hands to yourself next time.”

“ _Perhaps_ you should learn your place. Be careful, princess; that problematic attitude of yours may be your undoing. Anyone less forgiving than I would have already had your head on a spike, by now."

“How... _comforting_.” Were you supposed to thank him? He even had the gall to say that you were the problem, when he had wronged you so many times?! Unbelievable…

There was no point in arguing with him. Aeneas did it on purpose just to exasperate you and make you lose control.

As you stood in silence, you wrapped your arms around you and thought about getting some rest. You'd be damned if you stayed to listen to all this nonsense.

“When did you come to Fortuna?” he asked nonchalantly, disrupting your angry thoughts.

Well, that was unusual. It seemed as if he wished to strike some sort of conversation with you. He even completely ignored the previous argument, brushing it aside as if nothing happened. Still, you wouldn't trust his feigned kindness for a second. Aeneas clearly wanted something from you, and he would resort to all kinds of tricks to get it.

“After spring began.” You decided to play along, if only to erase the tension that permeated the air.

“To wed your fiancé, I assume.”

“Indeed. I came here to spend time with him, in preparation for our wedding. And I would have married him, had you not interfered. You couldn’t have picked a more unfortunate occasion to wage war against Fortuna.”

He sneered. “I beg to differ, princess.”

The words of that soldier came to mind again: that it was possible Aeneas intended to make you his bride. It wouldn't be the first time such an event happened. Emperor Mundus seemed to have a habit of marrying his men to the daughters of conquered territories— especially those of royal blood. In your case, your kingdom hadn't been conquered by them. However, this could only be to their advantage. While your surrender to Mallet wouldn't be openly shown, in reality you would be handing your territory to them without even going to war.

In these moments, you could very well be speaking to your future husband. The man you despised the most could become the one to bed you and sire your children.

Unable to stomach the thought, you began to walk away.

“Where are you going? You're not finished yet.”

Clenching your fists, you squared your shoulders and took a deep breath.

“My freedom has been taken away from me. At least allow me to preserve my dignity. You're aware that I'm an unmarried woman and a royal. This is not the treatment I deserve. I am a daughter of kings; I will _not_ act like your servant.”

“Hn…” was his meager response.

“That is not an answer.”

Without another word, he finished bathing himself quickly— to your immense relief. At least you wouldn't have to be near or touch him anymore.

“The towel,” he ordered, rather curtly, once he was done.

You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms. Did he seriously believe you would do his bidding?

When you didn't obey, his cold eyes settled on you and he heaved a weary sigh. “The towel… _please_.”

Oh, so he had some manners, after all. Should you humor him? To be honest, you weren't in the mood to do so but you wanted to save yourself the trouble of his sharp remarks.

Grudgingly, you fetched the towel and brought it to him— expecting the man to take it from your hand. However, your indignation reached unthinkable levels when he stood up, exposing his body to full view.

Feeling your face burn at such indecent sight, you diverted your eyes from the nudity of his body as fast as you could. No shame whatsoever! You weren't a maidservant he could humiliate so openly. You were a princess and he should have some respect!

The towel was still in your grasp, and you frowned when he made no attempts to retrieve it.

“What are you waiting for?” You turned to him, purposefully avoiding to look at the area below his waist.

“I was wondering the same thing.”

You scrunched your nose in annoyance. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you have the towel in your hands, and I'm still drenched from head to toes.”

It took you a moment, but you understood his words. To say that you were embarrassed would be an understatement. You were ashamed and outraged. Was he expecting for you to dry his body?!

His civility hadn't lasted very long, and you couldn't say you were surprised.

Throwing the towel in his face, he chuckled at your irritated demeanor. Again, it was clear that he was toying with you. This man was infuriating!

“I think you're more than capable of handling that on your own.”

“Indeed, but I was hoping you'd do it for me.”

Oh, how amusing all of this was for him. If only you could wipe that smug look off his face…

“Well, you'd better not hope too much.”

The bathtub was taken away and, thankfully, he got into some clothes. It made you shudder to think you would have to endure this every night from then on. Even more that he would try to make less-than-proper advances on you…

It was a surprise that he handled your backlash calmly, but it was all because you were a princess and you were useful to him. Otherwise, he would have had you lashed or even worse.

As Aeneas dried his hair with a cloth, you decided to head to bed and prepare it to get some sleep— if any at all. Fetching a few skins, you surmised they would be enough to keep you warm and proceeded to spread them before arranging the pillows.

“I’m going to bed,” you stated, having no wish to engage in further conversation. Unless he was interested in talking about the state of affairs of Fortuna, and other matters that pertained to your kingdom, then you had no interest in dealing with him.

Kneeling in front of your bed, since you didn't have your praying bench, you clasped your hands in front of you and closed your eyes. You prayed for Clara, and the souls of those who had perished— prayed that they would find peace, and that the Almighty would welcome them in the afterlife with open arms.

However, would they if their bodies didn't receive proper burial?

“What are you doing?”

Rolling your eyes, you gritted your teeth and glared at him. “I'm praying, if you haven't noticed.”

Aeneas arched an eyebrow, as he snuffed out a candle with his bare fingers. It was something that made you cringe in discomfort, at how painful it looked.

“Is that so? What for?”

“For the souls of the deceased, of course. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m busy.”

With that, you went back to your prayers, determined to ignore him.

Putting out another candle, he shrugged with a disinterested expression. “If that puts your mind at ease then, by all means, don’t let my presence disturb you.”

Did he think you were doing this for your own peace of mind?!

“I wouldn't expect an infidel like you to understand,” you huffed with derision.

“Go ahead and pray to your god to save Fortuna from me. Maybe he will.”

The mockery in his voice was unmistakable, as though this conflict was a joke to him.

_Heathen! Heretic!_

From what you knew, the religious customs of Mallet were quite different from that of your region. They saw their ruler, emperor Mundus, as their god— something you considered blasphemous and ludicrous. However, and as odd as it sounded, they didn't strictly forbid other religious practices in lands they had conquered. So long as they acknowledged the divine status of the emperor and paid a generous tribute to him. Most likely you would be allowed to practice your faith, though not in public— given your position as wife of one of the emperor's commanders.

Would your parents really consent to your marriage with this pagan? Some things were to be forsaken for the greater good, when it came to the stability of the kingdom, and you didn't know what they would do. Mallet had turned into an ominous threat, and risking a war would be devastating. On the other hand, allying with them would ensure that you were under their protection— but at the expense of your father losing power.

The hot coals glowed in the darkness as he finished snuffing out the rest of the candles. The tent was warm but there was sufficient ventilation to avoid overheating. Though it was summer, nights could be quite chilly sometimes, especially in the shores where the winds blew nonstop.

Slipping under the covers, you turned around and tried to sleep. It would be a long night, you were sure of that. There was a lot in your mind and so much had happened that day.

Was Amelia alright? What was that man doing to her? What would become of you and her now they you were in the hands of the enemy? Could you help her? Could you help your kingdom and Fortuna, at all?

In spite of your restlessness and tears, the sound of the waves in the distance lulled you into another fitful sleep.

* * *

Another day came.

You had hoped that sleep would help but not much had changed.

Aeneas had awoken before the sun rose and left to take care of his own business. On your part, you pretended to sleep— if only because you didn’t want to have the displeasure of talking to him first thing in the morning.

You heard that he had left instructions not to let you go outside, though you were allowed to see your lady-in-waiting if she visited. At the very least, you would have the consolation of her company. Who knew when he would return? Hopefully his duties would keep him away from you for the most part of the day. After all, he was busy planning and overseeing the siege of the citadel while you sat around, waiting for a miracle to happen.

Sitting up in your divan, you grimaced at the soreness of your body. Certainly, you were used to better accommodations but you couldn't be picky and, no matter how comfortable his bed looked, you wouldn't share it with him!

Blushing at the idea, you failed to notice a woman had walked in.

“Lady (Y/N)?” She must have been one of his servants, given the clothes she wore and the tray of food in her hands.

“That would be me.”

“Good morning, I've brought your breakfast.”

She left the tray on the table and you nodded absent-mindedly. “Thank you. You may leave.”

If she ever gave you her name, you barely paid any attention. However, you gathered that she was supposed to be a maidservant for you since she offered something along the lines of helping you get in a dress.

Just what you needed. Someone to snoop your every move and report to Aeneas, while he was not around.

“Thanks but I'll be fine on my own. Please, leave.”

“But lord Aeneas ordered—”

The mention of his name was enough to set you off, and you glared daggers at the poor woman. “I care not what his orders are. Get out of here, _now_ , or I'll drag you out myself!”

She sputtered her apologies and left in a hurry, seemingly scared by your unexpected outburst. It was a flaw in your character that you couldn't overcome. Going from gracious serenity to fuming rage was not something everyone would find attractive in a woman, and you’d been told that you needed to rein in your emotions— not to be governed by them. While you tried your best, it wasn’t easy to keep your composure when you were a prisoner and had been constantly threatened and debased.

But that hardly was the poor girl's fault, wasn't it?

After a while, your anger subsided. To be honest, you were beginning to regret having been so rude with her. She was only doing what her lord commanded and, hopefully, she wouldn't get in trouble because of you.

Pouring water in the basin, you washed your face and prepared to face another day of captivity.

Who you were you kidding? You didn't even have the motivation to eat, much any less to dress up and pretend everything was fine.

If only there was something you could do…

As soon as that thought crossed your mind, your gaze landed on his desk. Of course! You needed to retrieve those documents that had been entrusted to you. With any luck, he hadn't read them yet but that was unlikely at this point.

After a moment's thought, you rushed to it and began flickering through the various scrolls and parchments he'd left behind. There was nothing useful, however. Only a few manuscripts that he probably read in his spare time, and some writing material.

“Damn it…” you muttered, slumping your shoulders in defeat.

What did you expect? For him to conveniently forget sensitive information in there?

“Milady?”

At the sound of that voice, you turned around and found Amelia standing by the entrance of the tent— wearing an expression of concern and confusion.

Without a second thought, you ran to the woman and wrapped your arms around her, almost clinging to her neck.

“Amelia, I'm so glad you're here!”

You were like a scared child, and it was kind of embarrassing but that didn't diminish your glee any less.

Placing your hands on her cheeks, you looked into her gentle eyes. “Are you alright?”

Oh, heavens! She had spent the night with that man. The horrible things he must have forced her to do…

“Yes, I am,” she said, without a trace of doubt.

“He did not do anything to you, did he?”

“No, sir Griffon was kind to me.”

You furrowed your brow at her words. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“Why would I lie, ma’am?”

“To ensure my peace of mind.”

Amelia smiled warmly and shook her head. “You know me too well, but I can assure you nothing bad happened. Sir Griffon has treated me very well.”

“Really?” You arched an eyebrow, finding her statement somewhat strange.

“Of course.” She nodded, then stared at you with worry. “What about you, your highness? Last night, did Lord Aeneas…?”

If he bedded you? Heavens forbid it! You shuddered the thought.

“I'm still a maiden.” Needless to say, you omitted the part where he tried to undress you, and you ended up smacking his face.

You closed your eyes and sighed. How much more of this would you have to endure? While you'd been successful in stopping his advances once, who was to say he wouldn't try to get his hands on you again?

If that happened, you would have to fight back then.

“Milady, have something to eat,” your companion said, as she brought over the tray with your food.

“Amelia, you don’t have to serve me anymore.”

It was your fault she was a prisoner, in the first place. The last thing you wanted was forcing her to be your servant.

“Wrong, you are my princess and it is my duty to look after you. Your life is important for the future of our kingdom.”

You didn't want to hear about. You didn't want to think.

“I have no appetite…”

“But you have to eat something.”

“I don't think I can.”

“Please?” She gave you a pleading look that made you reconsider.

Starving yourself would do no good, and you needed to be in good health if you intended to make it through this. If you got sick, you'd only make it difficult for Amelia since she would have to look after you.

“Fine.” Taking a few bites, you managed to swallow some of the food— if only to content Amelia.

However, she noticed that you were distracted and distant that morning.

“What troubles you, ma'am?”

At that moment, only one thing came to mind. “Where is Clara's body?”

You hadn't heard word about her since you learned of her demise the previous day. Even if it wasn't a pleasant topic of conversation, you couldn't just pretend she never existed. That poor girl was dead because of your stupidity and it was something you deeply regretted.

The reaction was immediate, as Amelia's eyes teared up and she tried to hold back her sobs.

“I'm sorry… I didn't mean to bring back such painful memories, and I understand that you're still grieving for what happened, but I have to know…”

She nodded and hiccuped, wiping her tears away. “During our escape, we were chased deep into the woods. We had no idea where we were going anymore, but I knew we had to flee somehow. We had to get to the castle and let prince Credo know what happened to you.”

_Idiot!_ How could you have done something so foolish?! How could you have let them risk their lives? Lost and alone in the woods, they would have died either way!

Turning away from her, you felt your eyes sting with tears you dared not shed. “And then?”

“We tried to ride as fast as we could, but those men were quickly approaching. Clara was riding just ahead, and she turned to me with this look of fear in her eyes…” Amelia stopped to take a breath and then continued, “she told me we would never make it, that we were doomed. It was then that I saw the branch hanging dangerously low and I screamed at her to look out, but it was too late. It hit her with full force and sent her to the ground like a ragdoll.”

Oh, what had you done? _What had you done?!_

Sniffling and panting, she whimpered, “I was in no state of mind to continue. I did not know what to do. I couldn't leave her there! I didn't know where to go…”

“Yes, I understand. You're not to blame for that,” you tried to comfort her, but it wasn't easy when you knew that you'd been the cause of this tragedy.

“They caught me and, as they tied me up, I heard a man say that Clara was…” She couldn't bring herself to say it, and you couldn't imagine the pain and fear of such a traumatic experience. “I looked at her, lying on the ground… and she was not moving. She was not breathing. Her eyes were wide open and lifeless!”

It was a stab in your chest. In your desperation and insanity, you nearly had both of them killed.

You couldn't stand this anymore. It was impossible to hold back, and you fell on your knees— shaking and weeping miserably.

You didn't have any particular attachment to Clara. She hadn't been under your service for that long, but she was your responsibility. As her lady, you were supposed to look after her! How could you let this happen? How could you have failed?

“Milady!” Amelia gasped as she tried to help you on your feet, but you held onto her— unable to restrain your cries.

“Forgive me, Amelia,” you lamented, almost breathless. “Forgive me!”

Even choking with her tears, she stared at you confused. “Milady?”

“It was my fault. It's my fault she's dead!”

“Don't say that, please.”

“It is true! I sent you away without thinking of the consequences. I sent you to your death!”

“You were only doing what you thought best.”

“So what? Clara is gone and we're still prisoners. What have I accomplished? I couldn't save anyone.”

Having a breakdown in front of her was shameful, and you'd never wished she would see you in this state. You were a princess; you did not show weakness in front of others— you were supposed to embody fortitude and confidence.

“You humiliated yourself for my sake. You bowed down to that man to save me.”

“And what good is that, if now you're expected to warm the bed of sir Griffon?”

She didn't know what to say and, at her silence, you parted from her and composed yourself. Enough crying for one day, you decided.

“I would be lying if I said I ignore his intentions,” Amelia finally spoke, with reservations. “But he will not force me to do anything I don't want.”

You didn't believe that for a second, but you hoped he was truthful— for Amelia's sake. However, for how long would that be? How long until he demanded something else in return?

“Clara's death was a terrible misfortune, but I trust she's in a better place,” Amelia comforted, placing a hand in your back as she found some serenity of mind. “She was an innocent and kind soul. Now she's in the arms of the Almighty.”

Gulping down the knot in your throat, you stared down at your hands. “Please, tell me what happened to her remains.”

“Her corpse was brought to camp and… Lord Aeneas sent one of his men, the one they call Dullahan, to investigate the circumstances of her decease.”

“And then?”

“After that, Lord Aeneas ordered that she be given a proper burial this morning. Sir Griffon let me attend.”

At least he had the decency to give her a funeral. You didn't know how to feel about it. Was this… unexpected gratitude? Either way, even if he did the right thing, you still couldn't ignore his many other misdeeds.

When this was all over, you would make sure of retrieving her remains and take them to her family.

“I wish I could have been there to say goodbye.” At least you could have done that.

“Your situation is different, milady. I have some modicum of freedom here but you are closely guarded by these men. Lord Aeneas will not risk another escape attempt from you.”

“He said that I could try, but I wouldn't get too far." He'd even threatened to let his men have their way with you, though you doubted he would actually permit it. "Who does he think he is?”

“He is the Black Angel, Emperor Mundus’s most infamous warlord. His word is law and only the emperor is above him.”

“I don't owe him obedience," you snapped, angry at your helplessness.

Amelia didn’t look convinced, however. “Milady, I think we have no choice…”

She was right. Regardless of your royal blood, it meant nothing if you didn’t have the authority to back it— and he had made it clear that you were powerless before him. As much as you loathed the situation you were in, your hands were tied.

“What of the others? Have you heard any news?”

“I believe they were cremated, ma'am.”

Cremation was mostly an unacceptable funerary practice, though it was used in special cases— generally to burn numerous corpses victims of plagues, or the dead in battle.

If there were any survivors, neither she nor you knew about them. Either way, what were the chances? You told yourself you wouldn't be expecting a rescue, when Fortuna had enemies at her gates. There were other pressing matters at hand, and your safety couldn’t be a priority. Well, it was when Credo decided to send you away, but now things were different and you were in the hands of a dangerous man— someone who wouldn’t doubt using you for his own gain.

With a deep breath, you dried your tears and got on your feet— pacing around in deep thought. You couldn’t simply remain on the sidelines, oblivious to what was happening in this place. Perhaps you wouldn’t be able to change anything overnight, but you had to be ready to take advantage of any opportunity that could present itself unexpectedly.

Taking a seat, you faced Amelia and beckoned her to approach. “What is your situation?”

“What do you mean by that, milady?”

“You told me last night that you intended to seek sir Griffon’s protection.”

She was uncomfortable that you brought up the subject. Of course she would be, considering what being taken under his wing meant.

“Milady, I… I had n-no choice...” she began to babble, obviously ashamed of her actions. “Forgive me. If you believe I am no longer worthy of being by your side, then—”

You raised a hand to stop her. How could she even suggest that you discharge her? That decision was not for her to make.

“I am not criticizing you, Amelia,” you reassured her with a sympathetic look, knowing all too well that her circumstances weren’t any better than yours. “I completely understand your reasons and it must have been a difficult choice for you.”

Even if nothing had happened between them, she was still the lady-in-waiting of a princess and she was supposed to be impeccable in her moral behavior. Spending the night with a man who was not her husband was a serious offense to your honor and would call your reputation into question. Still, could you really blame her for choosing the lesser evil? If she was at fault for that, then so were you because you had also spent the night with Aeneas— and he’d even tried to get his hands on you.

She lowered her gaze, seemingly relieved that your still held her in high regard. “You’re too kind to me, ma'am.”

Amelia thought you’d done her a favor. Oh, if only she knew how much you needed her. Her mere presence was the only thing keeping you sane.

“However, since you intend to stay with that man from now on, I need to know if he will still allow you to serve me.”

Now that she was under his protection, sir Griffon could try to keep her away from you. It would be unfortunate if you had to part from your lady-in-waiting, but neither you nor her would have any say in it. Unless you talked to Aeneas and insisted that you wanted her back, though you failed to see why he would care and humor your request. After all, Amelia and you were practically spoils of war at this point.

“He has not forbidden me to do so. This morning, he even told me that if I wished to spend the day with you then I was free to come here. So long as lord Aeneas did not oppose, of course.”

“He has not. Otherwise his men would not have let you see me.”

“That is true,” she pondered. “At least he was considerate in that sense.”

You had to scoff at the idea. _Him_ , considerate? As if you had to thank him for that!

“In that case, I will require your assistance.”

Amelia’s eyes widened in confusion. “What can I do for you, milady?”

“I’m sure you have already noticed that sir Griffon is a man of influence and seems to be close to Aeneas." He must have been given that name— which alluded to the legendary creature, with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle— by the emperor himself. “I wouldn't say they're friends, exactly, but Aeneas appears to have a certain level of trust in him.”

“What do you have in mind?”

With a sigh, you placed both hands on the armrests and leaned forward— lowering your voice to a whisper. Who knew who could be listening? You didn’t trust those guards would keep a secret for you.

“My hands are tied and I cannot interfere personally in this affair. Therefore, I need you to be my eyes and ears out there. If sir Griffon shares any valuable information with you, or you learn something that could be useful, let me know. Would you do that for me, dear Amelia?”

It wouldn’t be the first time she engaged in such things, but this was a dangerous request— one you wouldn't dare ask, if it wasn't completely necessary. You weren’t under the protection of your family anymore; this was enemy territory, and the rules of the game had changed. However, what were you supposed to do? _Nothing?_

Amelia understood this very well and knew what she was getting into.

With a nod, she made up her mind. “You can always count on me, milady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end of the chapter :'v. Fortunately, it was long! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it. Vergil is really an ass in this fic and there will be no romance, you guessed it :'v but hopefully, we'll get some smut in the next part. I need to warn the readers that it most likely will be dubcon, with hate sex elements. We'll see how that turns out...
> 
> By the way, is everyone hyped for DMC5? What a time to be alive! :D it seems like Vergil is going to be in the game, and I need some answers!


	5. v.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with another update, thank goodness. I’m so sorry for the delay. I didn't mean to take this long to post a new part… 
> 
> I had promised Jasiel that this chapter would be done sooner (waaah, I'm really sorry!), but I ran into some trouble and didn’t know how to continue with the story. It took me quite some time to sort out between notes and drafts, deciding what should go next ;A; Also, family drama ensued but let's just leave it at that :'v
> 
> I would like to take this opportunity to thank: **DarkEssenceX** , **LuvieMM** , **lyon5** , **ice_coffin** , **Limboolian** , **Jasiel** , **Shame_n_Cringe** , **ASaintButNotReally** , for the lovely comments, and to all the people who left kudos. Thank you for the support! ♥♥♥ 
> 
> Thanks to **Lucia** for putting up with me during the elaboration of this chapter :D now I have a forty-page draft for the rest of the story. I have the ending too, so let's hope I can survive until DMC5 releases. God help me. And also thanks to **Lala** for being such a sweet cinnamon roll ;u;
> 
> By the way, anyone excited after watching the last trailer for DMC5? Can't wait until March :D
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. Abusive relationship, sexual themes, misogyny, possible OoC. English isn't my first language.

**Chapter V**

True to her word, Amelia did quick work in gathering information for you— to the best of her abilities.  
  
It was much as you’d feared. The situation wasn’t developing in favor of Fortuna, and you were significantly outnumbered by the enemy setting camp beyond her gates.  
  
It wasn’t hard to guess what the strategy was: if all economic activities in Fortuna were stopped, supplies would run out and soon famine would ravage the entire population. Surrounded by the forces of Mallet, there wouldn’t be anywhere to go and nothing to eat.  
  
Aeneas had said it himself; gold alone wouldn’t mitigate the hunger of her people. No matter how much wealth this kingdom had, it meant nothing if it was blockaded. Also, from what you’d heard, he planned to have the rotting meat of dead animals slung over the walls of the citadel. It was a dangerous and cruel measure for, once the citizens were starved enough, they would get their hands on anything that had the possibility of being edible.  
  
This posed a risk with the outbreak of pests that would bring plagues. While surely the castle would be well stocked with provisions, and the royal family wouldn't suffer of illness, commoners would soon revolt and the military forces would have to quash those who dared start an uprising.  
  
However, there was another problem…

Sooner or later, there wouldn’t be enough food to keep the military fed and content. No matter what vows they'd taken, whatever promises they'd made to protect their king and land, no army could possibly fight on an empty stomach. When their bowels began to growl and ache, it would be them who revolted against the crown in the end. There would be anarchy when they refused to follow the orders of their king and prince, demanding their surrender to the enemy before everyone starved to death.  
  
Combined with the use of artillery, and other war machines, this was a recipe for disaster. And this was what he wanted.  
  
“We're doomed. There is no way we can overcome this,” you whispered, dismayed at the bleak prospect.  
  
“I'm sure prince Credo will think of something, milady.” Amelia tried to comfort you.  
  
“I doubt he can easily find a solution. The last time I spoke with him, he didn't look very optimistic about the outcome.”  
  
Still, there was something that you didn't understand.  
  
Why did Aeneas seemed to want to prolong this war? As other commanders had pointed out, it would be better if this conflict was over as soon as possible. If Aeneas intended to conquer Fortuna, then he should be putting his mind into getting results faster.  
  
More than bringing this territory under the control of Mallet, it seemed his goal was to humiliate the monarch and terrorize every man, woman and child that lived on this island.  
  
It didn't make much sense for him to do this, from a martial and strategic point of view. The Black Angel was supposed to be a military strategist, a ruthless tactician who had subdued the most tenacious nations. Quite often he had marched through the gates of a captured city, mounted on Geryon's back, with all the fanfare of a prince to celebrate his victory— so you'd heard. Time and again, you'd hoped you would never have to see that day but fate had other ideas.  
  
His efficiency and skill as commander had earned him the admiration, as well as envy, of many— but, more importantly, the favor of the emperor. Although this could prove to be a double-edged sword, if Mundus started to consider him a threat, Aeneas had remained in his good graces thus far.

Unless the stories were mere fabrications to add to his already inflated ego— which couldn't be ruled out— it seemed odd that he would decide to follow this course of action. Then again, terror was also a powerful weapon and, in this situation, it could prove to be effective. 

Still, you sensed something was amiss. It was a feeling in your gut you didn't want to ignore.  
  
Regardless of your thoughts, there was no denying that Fortuna was facing impending doom at the hands of this man. Everything was lost, unless you found a way to change the outcome.  
  
But how?  
  
It was a question that still lingered in your mind, even days later, and had stolen your sleep.  
  
Amelia was none too happy with that, of course, and she nagged you nonstop about you not having enough nourishment or rest as of late. But, honestly, how were you supposed to be at ease?  
  
At least, Aeneas hadn't tried any funny business with you— thank goodness. And while it appeared to be a good sign, you couldn't lower your guard.  
  
He hadn't ordered you to assist him with his bath anymore, but you had to endure some awkward situations with his maidservants. Especially with a pair of mischievous sisters that were very keen on serving him. It wasn't pleasant watching them rub their hands all over him, as they gently massaged and washed his body, in spite of his obvious disinterest. Not that he did much to prevent such indecorous display, either way.  
  
Well, you wouldn't be the first one to judge but you considered their actions to be vulgar and distasteful— even more so in your presence. Their behavior screamed lewdness, and it was outrageous to see that they didn't even care that you had to witness their indecency. However, you were more upset by the fact he forced you to see all that! It felt as if he was really going out of his way to make you uncomfortable, by any means. What would he do next? Have sexual intercourse with them in front of you?  
  
Thankfully, you'd managed to keep your poise and sought consolation in your nightly prayers— hoping they would give you some much needed strength and guidance.  
  
You needed the Almighty's protection because, clearly, you were dealing with a devil.

* * *

Another morning found you with dark rings under your eyes. For several nights you hadn't gotten enough sleep, as nightmares of the slaughter of your guards, and the death of Clara, kept coming back relentlessly.  
  
Yet, another day came and the only reason you found to rejoice was knowing that Amelia was with you. Well, it was also good to see that Fortuna still hadn't fallen but you doubted that would remain unchanged in the near future.  
  
Lying limp, you barely had the strength to move. But as certain white-haired man paced around the pavilion, you made yourself small under the covers and pretended to sleep, so he wouldn't be reminded of your existence. You had no energy to deal with him just yet and hoped he would leave you be.  
  
It was easy to pretend that you were strong, but it was a whole different story trying to keep up the facade while crumbling on the inside. At least, you needed time to pull yourself together before facing him.  
  
Alas, he wouldn't give you that luxury.  
  
“I know you're awake, princess,” his voice suddenly spoke but you made no attempt to respond. You couldn't be bothered to. He didn't seem to find your taciturnity very pleasing— from the way he suppressed an exasperated sigh. “I've given orders that, should you wish to go outside, you have my permission. I  would suggest that you behave and not cause any trouble, while I'm gone.”  
  
Balling the sheets in one of your hands, you managed to swallow your contempt and ignored him. He would tire and leave, eventually.  
  
This was stupid. You were like a little girl, hiding under the covers because she was scared of monsters. Perhaps you were, but you didn't want to admit it.  
  
"Still angry? I thought you would have accepted your situation, by now. Maybe some fresh air will help you clear your mind. You've been confined in here for too long."  
  
And who was to blame for that?  
  
"Save your fake concern because I do not need it," you spat, unable to contain your disgust any longer. "After all what you've done, you dare pretend you care about me? How cynical of you…”

 “We're at war, in case you haven't noticed." He sounded as if he was discussing something trivial, and not the lives of other people. "I understand your restlessness, but you should not concern yourself with such matters. Your situation will be settled with your family in due time, once I'm finished here.”

Indeed, to him you were nothing more than spoils of war.  
  
“And what do you intend to settle with them?”  
  
You were afraid to ask, to be honest, but since this concerned your future you needed to know.  
  
"We'll see when negotiations are in motion," Aeneas said, before a conniving smirk played in his lips. You couldn't see it but you could hear it. It was a gesture you didn’t like one bit, for it was getting on your nerves. "What's the matter? Are you not happy, or is there something troubling you?”  
  
Oh, there was. Even if he didn’t explicitly state it, it was impossible to be oblivious at the hidden meaning behind his words. In this state of affairs, you would have to be delusional to believe that you'd go home after this war was over. Well, that was a possibility but Aeneas would have to be pretty stupid to miss an opportunity like this. And, sadly for you, he wasn’t dim-witted at all. Rather than asking for gold in exchange for your safe return, a more profitable approach would be to agree on marriage. Why would he content himself with a few scraps, when he could have a better deal? Besides, you highly doubted Mallet needed the gold, when substantial tributes were collected from many territories conquered in the past years.    
  
There was only one path these negotiations could take, and no way you would agree to his schemes.  
  
Springing to a sitting position, at the thought of that, you glowered at him— not even bothering to fix your messy hair, and disregarding the fact that you wore a simple gown that served as undergarments.  
  
“I refuse to be your wife!”

Finally you had a good look at him and found him holding a sword in his hand. It was at that moment you realized that it probably hadn't been a good idea to say that out loud.

However, he didn't even offer a reaction to your outburst. Instead, an awkward silence followed as he gave the weapon a long look with distant eyes, clouded by a wistful haze. You noticed that his hands held the blade with great reverence, as though it were his most prized possession in the world. It was clear that the sword was valuable to him, and it wasn't because of its material worth. It had sentimental value, and such emotions were tied directly to the person it previously belonged to— a most shocking observation, since you never imagined he could actually care about someone. Well, even so, that didn't make him any less of a bad person in your eyes.

Placing the blade in its scabbard, he wrapped it in dark silk and put it away in an oak chest— then finally acknowledged you.

“What would give you the idea I want to marry you?”  
  
He needed to ask?  
  
“Why else would you hold me hostage?"  
  
"For ransom, treaties, alliances. What did you expect?"  
  
“Alliances? The way I see it, whenever a woman is involved, it is only a mere euphemism for an arranged marriage. And I will not be a pawn in your game.”  
  
He couldn't think you were that naïve.  
  
"Well, it seems that you have seen right through my plan.” Aeneas knitted his brows in a thoughtful expression, and for a moment you had some glimmer of hope in seeing him doubt. But you wouldn't be so easily fooled, not when the glint of mischief was ever present in his gaze. “I suppose I should give you some credit for arriving at that conclusion, but I'm afraid there was a small miscalculation on your part.”  
  
“What is that supposed to mean?” You narrowed your eyes at his statement, knowing that nothing good could come from him.  
  
As he approached with smooth and sure steps, you sensed something perverse in the way his eyes followed the contour of your body— an awareness that made you terribly self-conscious. What did he think he was doing? You weren’t some piece of meat he could just ogle! Fuming at his daring attitude, you brought the sheets closer to you in hopes of shielding yourself from his persistent gaze.

Looking at your modest chemise, you noticed that perhaps the collar was exposing too much skin, at the level of your shoulder. In a hurry to fix that, you subtly tugged at the fabric in order to conceal that area and spare you the embarrassment. The last thing you wanted was giving him any more excuses to make fun of you.

While you’d been too busy focused on whether you were sending any wrong signals, you forgot that he was drawing near (how could you have overlooked that?). It was only when he spoke that you shifted your attention to him again, and this time your heart leaped at the realization he was standing quite close— looking down at you.

To say that his proximity made you nervous would be an understatement, but you didn’t make any attempts to back away. That would only show him you were scared, and he would take it as a pretext to bully you whenever he wanted. Heavens, you could have almost sworn that one of the reasons he tried to invade your personal space, and did all those outrageous things in your presence, was just to watch you squirm in discomfort. How delightful it must have been for him. 

“Let us suppose what you said is true, for a moment,” he began, matter-of-factly. “That does not necessarily mean I would be the one marrying you, however. For all you know, I could arrange your wedding with one of my men, and surely there wouldn’t be a shortage of volunteers.”  
  
Was he expecting you to believe that? Marrying _you_ , a princess no less, to one of his lowborn officers? That could have been a fate reserved for a woman like Amelia but, in your case, it would be a waste. In no way did you mean to imply you were somehow better than her but, undoubtedly, your position as royalty would be used for better ends than just marrying some random captain. Your family would refuse to approve of this. Even Aeneas would have been a much better choice, considering the territories he administered and the sizable army he controlled— not to mention that he was a direct subordinate of Emperor Mundus and answered only to him. Then again, you wouldn’t pretend to know what he was thinking but none of this made any sense.  
  
Oh, god… it almost sounded like you were wishing he would marry you!  
  
“Surely that must be the reason you insisted that I slept in the same tent as you, against all decorum and propriety.” Your sarcastic tone was bitter, as you recalled the moment he tried to get his hands on you. “I’ve heard enough stories about noble women abducted and forced to marry their captors. You wouldn’t be the first to engage in such awful practice.”  
  
While you didn’t expect to have any say in who your family chose as your husband, you could never imagine that you would be seized by the enemy overnight— much any less entertain the idea that you would meet your future husband like this. At the very least, you had the time to get to know Credo and found him to be an ideal match. However, Aeneas was a complete stranger that you couldn’t bring yourself to trust given the scary stories you’d heard about him— or rather, the Black Angel. Maybe half of them weren’t even true, but how could you be sure?  
  
Either way, you didn’t want to learn what kind of person he was…

“Well, if you insist there should be a wedding, might as well make it happen.” His words were conceited, and you resisted the urge to flinch when his hand reached out for you— holding a lock of your hair in between his fingers. “After all, there are many who would wish to marry a young princess from such a prosperous country. Actually, I have a better idea in mind. Maybe I should present you as a gift to Emperor Mundus.”

“The emperor?” Your eyes widened at the idea of you being another of his consorts, not out of wonder— not even bewilderment— but utter terror. Slapping his hand away, you jumped to your feet and stood in front of him, gasping for air as you tried to let the words out. “T-that cannot be! I refuse!”  
  
“You delude yourself into thinking you have a choice,” he said with a stony expression, but it was clear that he had found your distraught reaction most entertaining.  
  
Nevermind the fact he said you would be a gift, as if you were livestock or a slave. What you didn’t want was to be at the mercy of a madman who believed himself to be a god.  
  
“Are you insane?! Ignoring the fact that he is too old for me, I know very well of his habit of taking consort after consort and keeping many concubines—”  
  
Aeneas interrupted your diatribe with a nonchalant comment. “Well, that is certainly unfortunate but you’ll get used to it in time.”  
  
Did he think you cared whether you would be the only woman the emperor would bed?   
  
“That’s not what I meant!” you fumed, gritting your teeth. “It is no secret that he is desperate to father an heir, so much that he’s had many of his previous consorts executed when they failed to carry his child. He blamed those women for his misfortunes, but surely the Almighty has punished him for his blasphemy by rendering his seed infertile.”

If you were wedded to the emperor, you would be expected to give him the children he wanted so badly. And it would be completely impossible to produce an heir when he was the one incapable of impregnating you, unless a miracle happened— or you sought to lay with another man and lied that Mundus was the father of your child.  
  
Considering that no other men were allowed to have contact with his concubines and consorts, and that only eunuchs had permission to serve in the harem, the latter wasn't an option. Not that you approved of it, but those women were in a dire predicament and you wouldn't blame them for taking such desperate measures to save their lives. The idea that you could be in their place distressed you beyond the imagination. None of his mistresses or consorts had been capable of birthing a child, and you couldn't imagine you would be any different!

“If you value your life, you shall never speak those words again,” Aeneas admonished sternly. “I assure you the emperor has executed others for less serious offenses.”

You had to mentally scoff at that. With so many women at the disposition of the emperor, it would be difficult not to call his fertility into question. Still, no one dared speak ill about their god, or his inability to impregnate his lovers, and you could imagine that anyone who did had a death wish.  
  
While it made some sense, you still didn’t believe what Aeneas had said. If he truly intended for you to be some kind of… gift, then he would make certain that you remained untouched for the emperor. However, he didn’t seem to care much for that, considering his actions— which were rather suspicious, to say the least.  
  
“Is this your way to convince me to favor you? Do you intend to make me choose the lesser evil?”  
  
“I have no need to do such thing.”  
  
"Stop playing me for a fool!” you snapped, already sick and tired of his evasives. “I know your intentions, and the lewd thoughts in your mind. Will you still deny that you’ve abducted me for your own gain, after you nearly took advantage of me that night?”  
  
"That may be true, but I fail to see why marriage should play any part in this matter. Do you think I would take a stubborn and insolent woman like you as my wife? You'd be more hassle than you’re worth."  
  
"Ha, I would never accept a horrible and ruthless man like you as my husband!"  
  
"I'm glad to know the feeling is mutual.”  
  
You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or insulted by his affront. However, you couldn’t deny that you’d become more concerned and scared at the implications of his statement— despite knowing he was only playing his usual mind games with you.  
  
Even so, why would you assume that he was not married, in the first place? Maybe he’d already taken a wife but, if that was the case, surely that detail would be well known by now. In a sphere were connections and alliances were crucial, it was important to know who married into other royal and noble families— lest such unions posed a threat to the interests of a ruler. From what you gathered, however, the Black Angel had risen to prominence, gaining favor thanks to his own merits and not through other means.

Either way, you had to make sure that he didn't lay a single finger on you. If you succeeded in deterring his advances, you would have at least made sure to defend the honor of your family, and he would have less arguments to propose a marriage— in case that was his intention.

Quite honestly, you weren't looking forward to an inspection of your intimate parts to confirm if you were still a virgin or not. It would be humiliating to admit that he’d defiled you, and little would it matter whether you’d been willing at the time.  
  
"And you still have the gall to question my dissidence? My actions are only a reaction to the dishonorable treatment I've received so far."  
  
“As far as I'm concerned, you've been treated quite well under my care even after all the trouble you’ve caused.” He spoke as though you were a mere guest, enjoying a wonderful stay.   
  
“Captivity is the word you’re looking for. Let’s call this for what it is.”  
  
"You demand to be granted respect, but conveniently forget that it is you who respects no one.”  
  
Was he being serious? You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard! Did he think that you had to submit to him no matter what?  
  
“Have you wondered if, by any chance, something you did has garnered you my enmity? For the life of me, I _cannot_ imagine what it could possibly be."  
  
“If you must know, I intended to give you a proper treatment; that is, until you decided to act like a fool and openly defied me in front of everyone."  
  
Oh, yes... the first time you had the chance to speak with him, after you were nearly crushed by Geryon's hooves.  
  
_“You are despicable! A warrior of your standing needs the leverage of women to have some sort of advantage over his enemy? Not a shred of honor is to be found in you, or in this drove of rapists and murderers!”_

He had taken your words to heart, even if you'd blurted them out in a moment of anger and fear. But how did he expect you to react when he'd said that he was in no way obliged to feel compassion for any of you?

"I cannot pardon such offenses that easily, so you’ll be punished in a manner I see fit. Unless you would like to retract your statement and make amends...”

Hadn’t any of this mental torture been enough punishment already? Waking up each day and seeing nothing had changed, that nobody would save you, was a nightmare in itself. The thought of being taken to some stranger's bed to sate his depraved desires, knowing that Amelia was going through similar circumstances because of your inability to protect her… the slaughter of your people, and Clara’s demise— all of them weighed down heavily on your heart. Even more so the responsibility of your duties, and the uncertainty of what would happen to your kingdom.

“I won’t ask forgiveness for what I said… not when I know I only spoke the truth.”

His brow furrowed, in frustration more than anything else. “Do you honestly believe you are hurting me with these temper tantrums? Your behavior is, at worst, a mere inconvenience— an annoyance— to me. What you’ve truly accomplished, so far, is only making this situation more difficult for yourself.”

“You should do well to remember that there are offenses I cannot pardon so easily, either. Your actions are inexcusable, and I will not stand by them. The only consolation I have is that, one day, you’ll get what is due for all your wrongdoings and the misery you’ve caused.”

“Maybe, princess, but don’t forget that I’m not the only one who has debts to pay.” Despite his efforts to keep a stoic face, you perceived bitterness in his voice— and his eyes showed turbulent emotions that he seemed to be holding back. “You think me a villain in this story? Well, I won't attempt to change your mind but I’ll tell you this: that decrepit old man, who sits on the throne and calls himself king of Fortuna, will too pay for what he’s done.”

What did he even mean by that? Granted, Mallet was the enemy of several kingdoms, but it sounded as though there was some personal feud between them.

"And what could this 'old man' have possibly done to you? It was you who brought this war to our doors, and our enmity with Mallet is hardly a reason to pass judgment on him, all things considered. I did not know defending your land was a crime."

It was only natural to protect the uncle of your fiancé from the attacks of others, right? You had to side with these people, who would become your family one day.

How foolish and naïve.

"It is clear you have no idea about these affairs, so you should refrain from making baseless assumptions."

“No idea, you say? I know enough to see that you’re a greedy monster, who will stop at nothing to get what he wants— regardless of the cost. It is the only explanation I can find for your despicable actions.”

Mallet had built an empire on rivers of blood, using intimidation and brute force, and he was guilty of that too.

His eyes narrowed as his jaw clenched slightly, not quite pleased with your words. “A monster, you say I am. Well, if I was, I would have had you executed by now, thrown you into a cage to die of starvation— or turned you into the harlot of an entire army. Perhaps that is what I should have done; then you would have a real reason to despise me. Instead of complaining, be grateful I spared you.”

Grateful? You felt anything but!

“So it’s either becoming your whore, or being raped to death by a group of barbarians? To be honest, between those two options, I would have preferred you beheaded me.”

Uninterested in holding this futile conversation any longer, you turned around— hoping to put some much needed distance between you and him. You craved some fresh air, and you didn’t like having someone breathing down on your neck.

However, before you could get out of his reach, he grabbed your arm and pulled you rather abruptly towards him.

You gulped at the intimate proximity of his face, and your insides churned at those burning eyes boring into you. Despite his composed demeanor and his impassive expression, you could sense the aura of danger around him as his hand clenched around your arm.

"Don't touch me..." you growled with heavy breathing and heart racing, trying to break free from his grip of steel— to no avail.

"Maybe I would feel inclined to care about your wishes had you been more agreeable."

"What's the matter? Has the great Black Angel never been rejected before?" you mocked him. "Might as well get used to it, because it is something you'll hear quite often from now on."

"It appears you still do not understand the dire position you're in, princess."

"I do understand very well, but that does not mean I'll disgrace myself for your amusement. I am a princess, and any form of aggression directed at me is an attack to my kingdom."

Pulling you closer, he gripped your arm tighter— making you wince in discomfort. "Do you think that matters to me? Princess or not, if I want you to warm my bed, you will obey without objection."

That was the first time he openly admitted what you'd suspected for some time. The blood rushed to your face at those shameless words and, suddenly, your body quivered— whether it was rage or fear, or something else, it was hard to tell. At that moment, the only thing you could focus on were those azure eyes staring at you. Their intensity was almost overwhelming, threatening to crush your very soul under its weight— but you couldn’t look away, no matter how hard you tried. The more you gazed into them, the more you felt you were in a daze— falling under the spell of a devil who would drag you into the abyss, a place you feared you would never be able to leave. But the question was: would you ever want to leave?  
  
It seemed you couldn’t escape the influence of his wicked desires and, for a fleeting moment, your mind gave in. Oh, it did… and what it showed you truly terrified you with the degeneracy of such disturbing thoughts. How could you even wonder what being restrained by those arms, vulnerable to his cruel seduction, and tainted by those bloodied hands, would feel like? What would be the taste of sin in those soft lips? Would it be of regrets and fears, or perhaps it would be closer to lust and hatred?

No matter how much you hated this man, your body seemed to think different. There was no mistake, when strange shivers traveled from your breasts, snaking their way to your stomach, until they reached the warm spot between your legs. You hadn’t foreseen this reaction, and that was something that not only unnerved you but confused you as well. It had to stop. Whatever it was, it felt wrong! How could it be possible that you contemplated such awful thoughts? This had to be some kind of diabolical spell, you reasoned. Someone in their right mind wouldn’t entertain the idea of lying with the enemy, of all things. It was enough to make your skin crawl.

His attractiveness was a dangerous weapon, as dangerous as his sword or his words. If he'd been an ugly old man, ironically, that would have given you relief. At least, you wouldn’t feel guilty for thinking that he was handsome in a sick way. In moments like these, it certainly was good to remember who he was— a cold-blooded murderer, who didn’t flinch before death and who would not hesitate to destroy his enemies if given the opportunity.

Yes, you'd heard that he was generous with those loyal to him, but being kind to allies was something anyone could do— and not necessarily something he'd consider out of the kindness of his heart. It was crucial in order for both parties to have a beneficial association, and in such affairs giving was just as important as receiving. If a dog served his masters well and obeyed them, of course he would be praised and rewarded.

However, you weren't an obedient dog— and no doubt that put him on edge. That was why he needed to subdue you to get what he wanted. Why would he waste his time, reaching some sort of conciliation, if he could just put you in a tight spot and make you comply by force?

Well, he would have to be delusional to think you wouldn't put any resistance.

“I would rather die,” you spat with bitterness, knowing that you were making a dangerous gamble with your life. But even if the odds were against you, yielding was not an option.

“We'll see about that," Aeneas scoffed, as he finally let go of your arm— to your immense relief, as you wanted to be as far away from him as possible. His proximity was distressing and you needed to pull yourself together.

No sooner he'd walked out than your brave pretense disappeared, and you crumpled in bed— screaming into your pillow, in hopes of releasing all that pent up rage and frustration. You felt so small and pathetic, as you repeated the same words over and over again.

_"I would rather die..."_

* * *

 You were brushing your hair when Amelia paid a visit, and it made you happy to see her.

Despite your earlier encounter with Aeneas, you tried your best to look unaffected by his words. It would do no good to make her to worry about you. She had enough troubles and concerns as it was, and the last thing you wanted was to be a burden to others.

She lead some maidservants that brought food and buckets of water to fill the tub. Your body stiffened at the thought of having to see that odious man once again, but then you remembered that he usually was away for most part of the day.

“Is that for me?” you asked.

“It is,” Amelia said, with a gentle smile. “Come, milady. We'll get you cleansed and prepare you for the day."

It wasn't a bad idea. Maybe a warm bath would help you relax.

Once everything was ready, you undressed and stepped into the fragrant water— a sense of relief washing over you, as the tension in your body began to fade little by little. You had underestimated how reinvigorating these baths could be, and appreciated that Amelia always thought of your comfort in spite of her own problems. She was a very strong woman, and it made you wish you could be as brave as her to face all these difficulties.

After she'd dismissed the other women, you could finally have a word with her in private. It was better this way. You didn't trust those who were under the orders of Aeneas, and didn't want them around when speaking with your confidant. Hopefully, she had some new information but, even if she was empty-handed, it would be nice to just hit the breeze and unwind a little.

"So it is not the common baths, then..." you mused, as she brought a wooden chair over and sat down next to the tub.

"Of course not! That is no place for you, ma'am."

At least, you wouldn't have to parade half-naked in front of a myriad of strangers anymore. It had been enough humiliation to do so once, and you would die before a repetition of that incident happened.

All because Aeneas had decided to give you some kind of punishment for your insolence. The nerve he had…

"Before leaving, that man said I have permission to go outside."

There was a brief pause before you received an answer.

"That is wonderful news!" Amelia cheered, as she occupied herself with washing your hair.

However, you wanted to confirm something you'd suspected from the beginning.

“Tell me, Amelia, did you have anything to do with his change of mind?"

"M-me? Why would a lowly woman such as myself be able to convince a man of his standing?" she stuttered a little, in spite of her efforts to try to mask her nervousness.

"I cannot imagine he would have done it of his own volition..."

She wouldn't want you to know what she'd done, but it would be futile lying to you.

In the end, she admitted it. “I merely conveyed my concerns about your health, nothing else. I suggested that some fresh air would help you feel better, as you'd been confined here for days."

"You shouldn't have done it."

"Forgive me if I was too impertinent," she apologized, casting her gaze down.

"I am grateful for what you've done but, from now on, let me deal with him. He is a dangerous man, and you wouldn't have it easy if you were to incur his wrath."

One way or another, he would put up with you because you had some value to him. But the same couldn't be said for Amelia, and you feared what might happen to her.

"I understand, and you have nothing to thank me, milady."

"Please, just call me by my name. There is no need to be so formal when we are alone."

"Call you by your name? I couldn't do that..." she said dubiously, as though the idea never crossed her mind.

Despite having being brought up together, over the years she'd rarely used your first name and you’d never insisted on it either. But in these circumstances, there was no need for honorifics and correctness. After all, you were a nobody here and titles meant nothing without power.

"It would make me feel better if you did.” Maybe it was unfair that you manipulated her like this, but that would make her comply without any other objections.

“Very well, I will,” she said with affection, her fingers working on your damp hair as you lay back and pondered how different everything would be if Amelia wasn’t with you. For the worse, no doubt.

Admittedly, you’d never stopped to think how much she'd done for you in all these years, and it made you feel guilty to assume that she would always be at your beck and call. But this wasn't the case anymore. As a protégé of sir Griffon, she could have decided to forsake her service to you and do as she wished. If there was something you kept in mind was that she had been forced to remain by your side. Granted, her parents were quite happy that the royal family had chosen their daughter to be the companion of a princess, but leaving her loved ones behind to live in the court couldn’t have been easy. Considering that you hadn’t exactly been the best of mistresses, and your outbursts of anger quite often made you take out your frustrations on her, she had it difficult.

“Thank you,” you said, catching her off guard.

“For what?” She was confused.

"If it weren't for you, Amelia, I would be going insane in this place. You’ve done so much for me, without expecting anything in return. Even though you could have walked away, and I would understand, you chose to stay by my side.” Taking a deep breath, you hugged your knees to your chest— trying to alleviate the pain of the weight crushing your breast. “You’re the only friend, the best friend I have, Amelia…”

“Please, don't say that. A princess should not call a simple lady-in-waiting her best friend."

"That’s true..." you muttered, pensive. "A simple lady-in-waiting wouldn't do the things you do for me, Amelia. You’re more than that.”

“I am humbled by your words. I try my best to be of assistance to my lad— I mean, to you.”

“I know, and that is why I’ve always placed my trust in you.”

“You truly are too kind to me.”

It made you feel a pang of guilt whenever she said things like that.

You tried to shift the focus of the conversation to something else. “Now that we're alone, would you share with me what you've learned while you were gone?"

"I was hoping you would ask," she began, lowering her voice so only you could hear her.

"Very well, what have you to tell me?" you mimicked her, not knowing what to expect.

"You see, when I was heading to sir Griffon's tent the other night, I heard a messenger reporting to sir Dullahan about a fleet that set sail, some time after lord Aeneas's armed forces left Mallet.”

You remembered he had mentioned it, before you'd been presented with a hysterical Amelia and threatened to have her hurt if you didn't obey.

"And what did you find?"

"Nothing of substance as of yet but, being close to sir Griffon, I cannot help but hear what some men say. There is a quiet rumor that this fleet brings some type of new siege weapon."

“What?” You frowned, taken aback at this news. "Are you serious about this?”

"I would never jest about these matters. It seems that lord Aeneas's engineers had been hard at work recently."

"Could be the reason why they delayed their journey..." you mumbled.

"And here I thought he was a careful man, who left nothing to chance."

"He was probably in a hurry to come here, as soon as word that Fortuna's troops left for the East reached Mallet. Besides, he most likely has other siege engines at his disposal so it's not an urgent matter."

This was only a small setback to him. Nothing that would seriously affect the development of this war.

"That is true..." She finished washing your hair, and enveloped your head with a white fabric before focusing on scrubbing your back. "Still, it is a new threat to us.”

"Any idea what this weapon is capable of?"

"Some say it's a beast that spits fire and stone."

"How is that even possible?"

"Through some alchemic invention, it seems."

That brought a recollection to mind. You’d heard something similar in conversations your father held with some travelers and researchers that had been abroad. There was said to be a formula discovered and developed in a civilization of the far east, centuries ago, by a group of alchemists seeking to create the elixir of life. However, the results of these experiments were far different from what they expected, though not any less significant.

You'd also read the works of a friar, who had written an extensive account of his missionary journey in those lands. One passage spoke about a certain compound made of saltpeter, sulfur and charcoal. According to him, only a small piece of parchment filled with this powder was capable of producing a thunderous noise and flashes of light, as well as wounds if it wasn't properly handled.

If it were to be used in a much larger scale, of course it would prove to be more dangerous and destructive. Aeneas seemed to have realized there was potential beyond this simplistic use and found people knowledgeable enough to design a weapon of war.

This was a problem. There was no way to predict the level of damage it would do to Fortuna, nor how to stop it.

"Thank you, Amelia. I knew you would not fail me."

Thanks to her, you at least had an idea of what was going on. And while you had to admit the news were a little demoralizing, being left in the dark was even worse.

"Is there something else I should know?"

"There is," she replied, somewhat hesitant.

"What is it?"

"A queen, ally of Mallet, disembarked on this island shortly after the invasion."

You brows furrowed at this new bit of information. “A queen?"

It was unlikely that Aeneas was acting on her orders, as he only answered to Mundus. However, it begged the question what this woman was doing in here.

"Yes, the queen of Nysa, also known as Nevan la Rossa."

_Nevan the Red..._

"I remember that name..."

Of course you did. She had once sent an envoy to your father's court, several years ago, with the intention of arranging your marriage— or so the rumors said. Who was the man in question, you had no idea and neither did it matter. Your betrothal with the crown prince of Fortuna was already announced, and you would marry Credo. To turn him down for a man who belonged to an enemy state, despite being a good deal if negotiated beforehand, would be an affront that would severe your relations with Fortuna. It had been enough predicament that the engagement was nearly called off by the recent civil war, and the overthrow of the former royal family, until a new agreement took place.

But even if Nevan was an ally of Mallet, diplomacy and decorum weren't to be forsaken— as any real or perceived offense could garner the country even more enemies. Keeping this in mind, her emissaries were received and treated as honored guests. Needless to say, your parents politely declined her offer. Whether she took their answer well was up to speculation. However, it would be too presumptuous to think that you were the reason she was here. That wouldn't make any sense. Why would she even care if you didn't marry the man of her choice? You'd probably been one candidate among many others.

"Have Nysan forces disembarked?”

"Only her personal guard, from what I know,” said Amelia.

“Well, that would mean she doesn't have a direct participation in this war. For now, at least.”

You'd heard that the queen of Nysa ruled by her own right, and not through marriage— as was usually the case with most female monarchs. More importantly, she had never wedded, despite the pleas of her advisors— remaining single, in order to focus completely on government matters. And, to be fair, Nysa had done well under her administration.

Her reasons to remain celibate were not surprising. If she married some foreign royal, she would lose power before her husband and would have to submit to his authority. It was obvious Nevan wasn't willing to let that happen and, quite honestly, in her place you would have done the same.

Regardless of her unwed condition, nothing stopped her from having favorites at court and doting on these people— men and women alike, it seemed. And even in her elder age, her beauty was famous across the seven seas. It was one of the reasons that had made her well sought after among the hopeless suitors that had tried to court her (and you guessed the crown on her head was an excellent motivator, too). Unfortunately for them, her independent and dominant spirit made her a rather difficult prize to win. As a queen who held absolute power in state affairs, commanded her own armies and waged her own battles against other nations, it wasn't hard to imagine why she had no interest in finding a husband. These types of arrangements were purely made for political reasons and, in her circumstances, it was safe to assume that she didn't need one.

“Why do you think she has come here?” Amelia asked, genuinely concerned about what this could possibly mean.

Taking a moment to go through the information you had, there was something that popped into your head. When you were a child, one of your tutors told you about some events that had transpired between the two kingdoms.

“Nevan waged war against Fortuna, many years ago. It was a dispute over a principality that she insisted belonged to Nysa, on account of one of her ancestors that ruled the land long ago. As you can imagine, given our current situation, she lost.”

“Do you think she’s here to take revenge on king Sanctus?”

“I would consider this more a chance to reclaim what she believes is hers. However, it is not Sanctus who she fought against. Not as the king, at least.”

Amelia was understandably confused. She was too young to remember what had happened.

“What do you mean by that?”

“We were small children at the time, so it makes sense we do not know much of what took place back then. However, the truth is that years ago another dynasty ruled Fortuna, and Sanctus was only a general under the service of the royal family.”

Her mouth hung open as she heaved a breathless gasp, eyeing you with disbelief. “How can that be?”

“The king, whose name was Sparda, died under unknown circumstances. And while the queen took his place as regent, until her son was old enough to rule, some concerns regarding her capabilities arose— no doubt, a ploy to decrease her power over Fortuna. In an effort to quell any unrest, she married Sanctus, since he rallied a considerable support from high-ranking officials. But it was futile and, regardless of these attempts, a civil war broke out between those who were still loyal to the crown and those who wished for a new ruler.”

“What happened to the queen?”

“She was betrayed by her generals. The royal family disappeared without a trace, and… with no legitimate heir in the way, Sanctus crowned himself as the king of a new dynasty.”

“Disappeared? Do you really believe that happened?”

“I do not know for sure…” You didn’t dare speculate. This was the uncle of your fiancée, his family, who you were talking about.

Whatever happened to the family of king Sparda, they were gone and now someone else was sitting in the throne.

“How did you learn all this?” At this point, she had stopped bathing you and was completely engrossed in your account.

“One of my tutors taught me the history of Fortuna. He believed that I should know the truth, considering I would marry the crown prince. But of course, I was never to mention this knowledge to him.”

“How is it that Sparda's name was lost for so many years?”

“That is because Sanctus ordered the destruction of any depictions of Sparda, as well as the removal of his name from inscriptions and documents. The only surviving traces left of him are in foreign countries, such as letters that he'd exchanged with other monarchs and old treaties. However, as far as Fortuna is concerned, he probably never existed.”

Perhaps the elder still remembered his years of reign, but the younger generations were growing up without even knowing his name.

“He was erased from the history of Fortuna. What a horrible fate!” She was appalled, and for good reason.

“Indeed it is.” To be buried and forgotten by his own, the same people who had once sworn loyalty to him, was something terrifying to think about.

Quite honestly, you'd never been too fond of Sanctus. He was a greedy man who betrayed his own king and usurped the crown. His actions had been questionable at best, and he knew that his claim on the throne stood on shaky ground. That was why he had been so determined to erase all vestiges of Sparda's existence and his bloodline. That way no one would have the means to oppose him, if there was no heir to take the crown away from him.

“So that means Sparda is the king who warred against Nevan, back then, and she lost to him? I cannot imagine she took it well.”

“A proud woman like her isn't used to defeat, that's true. When both sides reunited, in order to discuss the terms of surrender, things didn't go very well. It wasn't until Nevan requested a private reunion with Sparda that they seemed to reach an agreement.”

Amelia was at the edge of her seat, giving you an expectant look. “How?”

You shrugged. “Only the night knows what happened between them, but one thing is for sure: Sparda won that war. However, I wouldn’t put it past her to come to Fortuna’s doors, claiming her rights, now that he is gone.” With a sigh, you sank a little deeper into the water— trying to chase away the cold. “Whatever her reasons, I reckon she is not to be trusted..."

* * *

Stepping outside was pure bliss.

As the marvelous breeze caressed your face, you took a moment to breathe in the morning air and feel the warmth of the sun on your skin— as your gaze settled on the ships anchored in the glittering blue waters of the sea. At least he had chosen a place with a nice view, and it would have been a beautiful sight if not for the fact that those vessels belonged to an invading army.

For a moment you'd almost forgotten that you were a captive of the enemy, and this soured your mood.

The camp was very busy, with soldiers occupied in their duties. They had built fortifications around the encampment, and preparations for the main assault that would eventually take place were being made.

Looking towards the mountainous areas, you caught sight of the fortress— standing quiet and somber, as though an ominous shadow had been cast upon it in spite of such a bright day. The people of Fortuna remained enclosed behind their walls of stone, but that didn’t mean they would be safe. It was only a matter of time until this city fell just like many others had before.

"What a beautiful day, milady." Amelia tried to cheer you up, but you were too far away in your thoughts to even listen.

Some wisps of smoke rose to the skies, an indication that they had burned the fields and nearby villages. Obviously, they wouldn't let any of these resources fall into enemy hands if they could prevent it.

To be honest, it made your blood boil.

In this conflict, the only people who would suffer were the commoners— those who weren't of noble birth and didn't possess the means of exerting any influences. The lords of the castle would be well-stocked, and when times got more difficult you doubted they would share their food with everyone. If that were to happen, surely the armed forces would have more priority in having nourishment.

Amelia told you that a message had been issued, so that the forces of Fortuna would surrender without any more unnecessary bloodshed. Well, at least Aeneas had made an effort to be more compassionate, but you suspected this was more a formality than anything else and it would do little to actually discourage Fortunian troops. That was why, unlike your personal guard, the mutilated bodies of the men— who died during the first assault on the shores— had been put in display of their comrades. It was a common terror tactic used to lower the morale of the enemy, but it was atrocious to imagine. The thought made you sick to the stomach.

It wouldn't surprise you if Aeneas threatened to execute you, at this point.

"Good morning, ladies," a masculine voice greeted, interrupting your macabre contemplations.

Turning around, you spotted a young man clad in dark armor— wearing a horned helmet too, though his face was uncovered.

You narrowed your eyes at him, already on the defensive in spite of his courteousness. “Who are you?”

"I am Alastor, a cavalier in lord Aeneas's personal guard. He has ordered me to escort you around camp."

You felt your eye twitch. “He never mentioned I would have an escort. Leave, I do not need you.” However, the man did not obey and you grew impatient. “Did you not hear me?”

“I did, ma'am, but I only follow orders from my lord. If you have any complaints, maybe you should discuss the matter with him.”

It was useless. There was no way Aeneas would negotiate with you, and of course he would pull off something like this. Did you really think he would let you walk around freely, without keeping an eye on you?

At that moment, your body trembled in rage and your teeth gritted so hard that Alastor's impassive expression changed for one of concern. Amelia, the prudent woman she was, knew that it was better to seize you away.

Stepping in, she took your hand and smiled apologetically. "My lady, it should not be any trouble for us. A princess and her lady-in-waiting must not go out without an escort, and it was thoughtful of lord Aeneas to provide one for us."

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. “Fine, but he'd better keep his distance.”

“My presence will not be an inconvenience, I assure you.”

It would be foolish to lose your nerve over something insignificant. Besides, Alastor was only obeying orders. You doubted he actually wanted to babysit two women wherever they went, but that wasn’t your problem. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to follow you around, either way.

Perhaps you should have taken this opportunity to clear your mind from all these muddled thoughts, but that was easier said than done. Having someone at your heels, watching your every move, wasn’t exactly contributing to that end.

"How dare he?" you hissed under your breath, and Amelia gave you a sad look.

"It was to be expected. You are his captive and he wants to ensure you're under his control at all times. Though, in all honesty, it could also be for your own safety.”

“My safety? I bet he's really worried about that." More like he was concerned for his own interests. Though, in a way, you couldn't blame him. There was no reason he should care about you, and it was probably a better idea to have someone accompany you— should any problems arise.

Sighing in defeat, you nodded. It was no use to keep arguing and you wanted to enjoy the day for a little while, if possible. Despite some stares that you got from others, probably people who were curious about your presence, you did your best to ignore them and went ahead— Alastor trailing behind you.

It wasn’t long before you found a nice spot beneath the shadow of a tree, on a small hill. It was the same place you’d visited with your handmaidens, on the day of the invasion. Back then, you could have never imagined any of this would happen and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Taking a seat on a protruding root, Amelia sighed in contentment whilst you gazed at the sea in silence.

“What's on your mind, milady?” Amelia was a little troubled, and you figured you must have looked deep in thought.

Crossing your arms, you smiled. “Nothing… I was merely admiring the landscape.”

You didn't want to talk about such matters. Only this brief moment of freedom and peace mattered, you thought as you closed your eyes and felt the salty breeze on your face.

“A beautiful day, don't you think, milady?"

It was almost ironical. Somehow, it angered you because it didn't match the way you were feeling inside.

“Yes…”

Looking behind your shoulder, you spotted Alastor standing solemn— a little farther away, under the shadow. Not the ideal place to discuss about certain matters. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't do it in front of him. At least back in the tent, you had some privacy to talk in hushed voices.

Amelia had decided to find entertainment with a work of golden embroidery she'd brought in her bag. Too bad you didn't have anything to keep you occupied.

Taking a seat next to her, you eyed the dark blue fabric in her hands with curious interest. “It looks splendid.”

Her needlework had always been magnificent. Or that was your opinion, at least, since you'd never been good at it.

“Thank you, ma'am,” she replied, somewhat abashed.

“What is it, if I may ask?”

Amelia made herself smaller at your question. “It's a blanket.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little too small?” You laughed under your breath.

"It is small in size because it's meant to keep a baby warm."

"Oh, I see." It made sense, you thought.

“The truth is, milady… if it’s not a bold request, I was hoping to present this gift to your first child."

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. _Children…_ they were expected in a marriage, nothing wrong about that, but the reminder was a little unsettling— considering it could be used against you.

“That is very thoughtful of you. I would love it if you gifted my child such lovely handiwork.”

“Thank you, milady.” Her enthusiasm damped when she noticed your taciturn concern, and she placed a hand on yours. “No matter how uncertain the future is, I'm sure you will overcome this test. I'll pray every night to the Almighty to grant you guidance.”

Forcing a smile, you nodded. “ _We_ will overcome this, Amelia. Don't forget that.”

You had promised to take her home and that meant you couldn't fail her.

Soon, she was focused on her task again and you were left to your reflections. It proved to be a bad idea, however. Even if you despised him, Aeneas occupied your mind and that was something that infuriated you deep inside. You were supposed to enjoy yourself but, instead, your thoughts kept going back to him and it was something that was beginning to get on your nerves.

No one had ever dared to lay a single finger on you. Credo, certainly, never did despite being your fiancé. He was always distant, cold, to the point you sometimes thought he didn't have any interest in you. It was enough to say that he'd never kissed you, despite there were times you wanted him to. If only he had done it, maybe you could have hold onto that memory to fight these horrible feelings.

Being so close to Aeneas, the way your body had reacted to his touch— his disgusting touch— was a problem. And you feared what this could possibly mean.

_‘Almighty, do not let me stray from your path. Be my sword, my shield. Protect me from my enemies and from myself as well.’_

“Milady, look over there.”

Startled by Amelia's sudden words, you followed the direction of her disconcerted gaze. There you observed a small procession of guards and servants slowly make its way through camp. Despite the distance, it was impossible to miss.

A group of men carried a golden litter, and translucent curtains surrounded the structure— concealing the person inside. It wasn’t until a pale hand reached from within, pulling the fabrics aside, that you managed to get a glimpse of a red-haired woman. No doubt someone of very high standing, given the royal treatment she received. Shortly after that, she gently beckoned a maiden of her cohort, and said woman hurried to her side— leaning so that her lady could whisper in her ear.

Amelia narrowed her eyes, trying to have a better look. "Milady, do you think she is—?”

"Yes, it has to be her."

* * *

There was no doubt. She had to be Queen Nevan.

And one of her attendants was approaching, accompanied by what you guessed was one of her royal guards.

You recognized her as one of the servants that usually waited on Aeneas. The same one that shamelessly touched his body, and made you suffer from second-hand embarrassment and remorse at having to be a witness of their immorality.

“What does that brazen maid want?” Amelia grumbled, having learned of such improper displays.

“You'll learn at the same time as I.”

The woman had tried to address you directly, but Alastor quickly intercepted her and they engaged in an exchange. From what you gathered, they must have been talking about you, given the way they glanced at your direction from time to time. Alastor seemed to be discussing with her, but she was adamant on not relenting.

“What do you think is going on?” you asked Amelia.

“I'm not sure…”

Finally, they finished and Alastor turned around— his expression weary as well as annoyed.

He stood in front you, earnest in his bearing. “Lady (Y/N), pardon the intrusion but this woman wishes to relay a message to you.”

He stepped aside so the woman behind him could introduce herself.

“Lady (Y/N)...” she curtsied, her gaze downcast. “I apologize for the—”

“Was there something you needed?” Quite honestly, you had no wish to be friendly, but that was more of a matter of bad mood than anything else. And what use there was for decorum now, when she had behaved deplorably in other opportunities?

"I'm here on Queen Nevan's behalf. She would like to have a word with you, if you please.”

So she belonged to the queen's entourage? Well, she clearly seemed to be quite familiar with Aeneas if she sent her own maidens to wait on him.

Still, you and Amelia gave each other a confused look, not having expected that request from the queen. What could she possibly wish to talk with you?

However, this was an interesting opportunity to meet her in person. Maybe you could learn more about this conflict taking place and consider your next course of action.

“Very well. I will meet with your majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I decided to include the milf Nevan. I'm surprised because in the original version of this fic she didn't appear, but she's one of my favorite bosses in the game so I wanted to include her ;u;
> 
> Just as a funny thought, the sisters mentioned in the story are meant to be the rusalki demons in DMC4. Yep, here they're meant to serve Nevan and not Bael/Dagon xD maybe I'll include them a little more in future chapters, who knows? :v
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed it :D this story turned out to be longer than I expected, so bear with me please. I promise I have the ending OMG. I just need to put all the pieces together and that's actually the most difficult part XD. Either way, I just want to thank everyone for supporting this story, despite the slow updates. You're the best, and I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! ♥♥♥♥ 
> 
> Only three months until DMC5 is released, yay!


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